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THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH 
THOUGHT 


•Thgyftfe 


THE   DE 

ENGLISH  THOUGHT 


A  STUDY  IN  THE 
ECONOMIC  INTERPRETATION  OF  HISTORY 


BT 


SIMON  N.   PATTEN,   Ph.D. 

PEOFESSOE  OF  POLITICAL  ECONOMY,  WHAETON  SCHOOL  OF  FINANCE 
AND   ECONOMY,  UNIVEESITY  OF  PENNSYLVANIA 


THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Ltd. 

1899 

All  right*  reserved 


v*    }>%-  •     .     J  V}*    *     • 


Copyright,  1899, 
By  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


NorfoooD  $rrgg 

J.  S.  Cuihing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 

Norwood  Mui.  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

The  following  pages  attempt  to  present  a  theory  of  his- 
tory through  concrete  illustrations.  No  endeavour  is  made, 
however,  to  relate  in  detail  the  events  of  any  period.  A 
knowledge  of  historical  facts  being  assumed,  certain  salient 
features  of  each  epoch  will  be  thrown  into  relief,  so  that 
the  main  trend  of  events  may  be  distinguished  from  the 
confusing  maze  into  which  the  presentation  of  details  often 
leads. 

English  history  has  been  chosen  to  illustrate  this  theory, 
because  the  conditions  and  circumstances  isolating  Eng- 
land for  many  centuries  have  made  English  thought  more 
normal  and  more  uniform  than  that  of  her  continental 
neighbours.  The  advantages  of  England's  insular  posi- 
tion are  too  well  known  to  need  restatement ;  only  the 
effects  of  this  isolation  require  emphasis.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  find  another  nation  whose  thought  was  so 
little  influenced  by  foreign  civilization  as  that  of  Eng- 
land from  the  Reformation  to  the  middle  of  the  present 
century.  During  all  this  time  England  had  a  vigorous, 
or  at  least  an  active,  foreign  policy,  which,  while  it  kept 
her  in  touch  with  external  events,  was  the  interest  chiefly 
of  those  in  court  circles,  or,  at  most,  of  the  small  aris- 
tocratic class  that  controlled  the  State  and  directed  its 
policy.  Although  it  would  take  volumes  to  narrate  the 
story  of  the  struggles,  successes,  and  failures  of  England's 
foreign  policy  during  this  period,  yet  these  events  have 
no  present  interest  because  they  affected  but  little  the 
life  and  the  thought  of  the  people.  The  great  mass  of 
the  people,  unrepresented  in  Parliament,  took  slight  inter- 
est in  the  topics  it  discussed,  or  the  policies  it  pursued. 


vi  PREFACE 

Foreign  wars,  were  brought  home  to  the  people  only 
through  the  tax-gatherer  and  the  press-gang.  So  long  as 
the  taxes  were  paid,  the  governing  class  was  satisfied, 
while  the  people  were  content  to  pay  their  taxes  in  order 
to  be  let  alone.  Thus  the  gulf  between  the  official  class 
and  the  people  has  never  been  more  complete.  This  state 
of  affairs  has  rendered  the  life  and  thought  of  the  English 
people  peculiarly  favourable  for  study.  The  growth,  prop- 
agation, and  decay  of  ideas  and  modes  of  thought  were 
unaffected  by  governmental  interference  or  by  foreign 
influence.  Each  new  crop  of  ideas  sprang  up  in  virgin 
soil,  matured,  decayed,  and  gave  way  to  its  successor  with- 
out any  external  interference  to  hinder  its  growth.  If 
there  are  laws,  therefore,  governing  the  origin,  growth, 
and  modification  of  national  thought,  an  examination  of 
this  period  must  be  productive  of  results. 

The  theory  presented  is  scarcely  open  to  question,  though 
some  of  its  corollaries  may  not  be  evident.  Survival  is 
determined  and  progress  created  by  a  struggle  for  the 
requisites  of  which  the  supply  is  insufficient.  These 
requisites  are  the  goods  for  which  men  strive  or  the  means 
by  which  they  may  avert  evils.  A  group  of  such  definite 
objects  upon  which  the  life  and  happiness  of  each  race 
depends,  always  exists.  The  environment  formed  by  this 
group  of  economic  objects  surrounding  and  supporting  a 
given  race  changes  with  the  several  objects  in  which  the 
interests  of  the  race  are  centred.  With  the  new  objects 
come  new  activities  and  new  requisites  for  survival.  To 
meet  these  new  conditions,  the  motives,  instincts,  and 
habits  of  the  race  are  modified;  new  modes  of  thought 
are  formed  ;  and  thus  by  the  modification  of  institutions, 
ideals,  and  customs  all  the  characteristics  of  the  civiliza- 
tion are  reconstructed.  These  changes  take  place  in  a 
regular  order ;  the  series  repeats  itself  in  each  environ- 
ment. In  its  amplification  and  illustration  lies  the  eco- 
nomic interpretation  of  history. 


PREFACE  vii 

A  study  like  the  present  one  has  the  advantage  that  the 
conclusions  reached  are  definite  and  clear.  How  far  they 
are  applicable  to  the  formation  of  a  general  theory  of  the 
progress  of  thought  may  be  left  for  future  discussion. 
Believing  that  concrete  studies  must  precede  broad  gen- 
eralizations, I  shall  be  content  if  the  reader  accepts  my 
interpretation  of  English  thought,  even  if  he  regards  the 
conditions  so  exceptional  as  to  furnish  an  inadequate 
basis  for  a  general  history  of  thought.  I  am  quite  ready 
to  admit  that  when  other  epochs  and  civilizations  are 
studied  with  the  same  care  and  by  the  same  methods, 
many  of  my  conclusions  will  be  modified  and  some  of 
them,  perhaps,  reversed.  I  believe,  however,  that  English 
civilization  during  the  last  three  centuries  has  been  freer 
from  outside  influences  and  therefore  more  normal  than 
any  other  epoch  of  which  we  have  the  material  for  a 
thorough  investigation.  It  must  remain,  therefore,  the 
best  field  for  concrete  studies  until  some  new  civilization 
arises  under  conditions  still  more  normal  and  hence  more 
easily  analyzed  and  studied. 

The  first  chapter  contains  an  explanation  of  the  psycho- 
logical theories  underlying  the  whole  book.  Logically 
this  should  precede  the  concrete  applications  of  the  theo- 
ries. But  readers  who  prefer  to  study  theory  and  appli- 
cation together  may  begin  with  Chapter  II.  on  "The 
Antecedents  of  English  Thought." 

Edinburgh,  September,  1898. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 
The  Theory 

1.  National  Character,  pp.  1-5. 

Adjustment  to  the  environment  is  effected  through  the  mental  mechan- 
ism, which  creates  sensory  and  motor  ideas  (1).  The  sensory  ideas 
are  the  basis  of  knowledge.  They  are  arranged  and  classified  so 
that  any  one  of  them  is  capable  of  arousing  a  series  of  mental  images 
and  appropriate  motor  reactions  (2).  Races  differ  in  their  motor 
reactions  more  than  in  their  sensory  ideas  (3).  Character  depends 
upon  the  habitual  motor  response  to  the  stimuli  caused  by  the  requi- 
sites for  survival  which  preserve  the  race  (5). 

2.  Kinds  of  Environments,  pp.  5-10. 

Environments  are  either  local  or  general  (5).  In  the  former  motor 
activity  predominates  over  sensory  discrimination  ;  instinct  is  more 
important  than  reason  (6) .  In  the  latter  nice  sensory  discriminations 
become  the  conditions  of  survival ;  men  master  nature  by  becoming 
conscious,  cautious,  and  analytic  (7).  To  a  local  environment  corre- 
sponds a  pain  economy.  A  pleasure  economy  can  only  develop  when 
a  race  emerges  into  a  general  environment  (8). 

3.  Adjustment  to  the  Environment,  pp.  10-15. 

The  term  "environment"  in  this  work  denotes  the  objective  conditions 
of  present  importance  to  social  development  (10).  National  character 
is  not  determined  by  the  environment  in  this  sense  (11).  National 
character  is  relatively  stable,  although  the  environment  is  constantly 
changing  (12).  Every  change  in  the  environment  tends  to  modify 
the  national  character,  which  in  turn  reacts  against  the  change  (13) . 
Every  marked  change  in  the  environment  gives  rise  to  a  new  epoch 
in  thought  (14). 

4.  Race  Ideals,  pp.  15-21. 

Heredity  gives  increased  vividness  to  the  sensory  ideas  arousing  motor 
activities  necessary  to  survival.  Race  ideals  are  visualized  groups  of 
these  sensory  ideas  (15).     Sensations  and  groups  of  sensory  ideas 

ix 


X  CONTENTS 

aroused  by  the  same  stimuli  differ  according  to  the  inherited  mental 
mechanism.  Ideals  grow  up  more  readily  in  a  local  than  in  a  general 
environment  (17).  Imitation  and  conversion  are  the  means  by  which 
race  ideals  are  made  serviceable  in  new  environments  (18).  Con- 
version consists  in  connecting  a  new  group  of  sensory  ideas  to  the 
inherited  motor  mechanism  (19).  The  relative  permanence  of  the 
motor  mechanism  is  illustrated  in  religious  revivals  and  in  political 
revolutions  (20-21). 

5.  The  Stratification  of  Society,  pp.  21-23. 

Political  changes  are  due  less  to  changes  in  national  character  than  to 
rearrangements  of  classes  in  society  (21).  Classifications  of  society 
based  on  wealth  or  social  position  are  superficial  (22)  ;  they  should 
be  according  to  psychic  characteristics  (23). 

6.  The  dingers,  pp.  23-25. 

Localities  with  restricted  food  supplies  develop  a  timid,  conservative 
type  of  man  (23).  They  are  stay-at-homes  and  hero  worshippers  and 
may  be  designated  as  dingers  (24).  A  utilitarian  calculus  of  pleas- 
ures and  pains  is  foreign  to  such  a  people  (25). 

7.  The  Sensualists,  pp.  25-27. 

When  the  local  conditions  improve,  a  class  of  sensualists  arises.  They 
strive  with  vigour  to  satisfy  as  completely  as  possible  some  dominant 
passion,  and  in  a  developing  society  contribute  largely  to  progress  (25) . 
They  break  away  from  local  conditions  and  become  conquerors.  They 
are  tribute-takers,  while  the  dingers  are  tribute-givers  (26) .  Under 
modern  conditions  no  race  of  sensualists  could  thrive.  The  type, 
however,  is  preserved  as  a  class  in  society  (27). 

8.  The  Stalwarts,  pp.  27-30. 

Highly  developed  societies  produce  a  third  type  of  men,  who  love  dogmas 
and  creeds  and  subordinate  policy  to  principle.  These  are  stalwarts 
(27).  They  represent  a  reaction  from  sensualism  in  the  direction  of 
asceticism.  In  politics  they  are  Utopists  and  democrats.  In  all 
things  they  love  clearness  and  simplicity,  and  are  independent  in 
thought  and  action  (29). 

9.  The  Mugwumps,  pp.  30-32. 

Increase  in  wealth  has  given  rise  to  a  leisure  class  relieved  from  the 
pressure  of  a  battle  for  existence.  In  this  class  there  has  been  a 
development  of  the  sensory  and  analytic  side  of  the  mind  to  the 
neglect  of  the  motor  side  (30).  Such  men  are  vigorous  in  thought, 
but  weak  in  action.  They  cannot  act  together,  but  make  admirable 
critics.     They  are  cosmopolitansin  their  sympathies,  advocates  of 


CONTENTS  xi 

compromise  in  politics,  and  agnostics  in  religion,  and  may  be  called 
mugwumps  (31). 

10.  The  Development  of  Classes,  pp.  32-38. 

These  four  classes  are  found  in  every  modern  society,  dingers  change 
little  from  age  to  age.  Mugwumps  vary  too  much  to  be  a  homo- 
geneous group.  Sensualists  and  stalwarts,  however,  are  clearly 
defined  and  in  each  epoch  pass  through  a  regular  course  of  develop- 
ment (32).  Calvinists  and  Methodists  represent  different  types  of 
stalwarts  (36).  At  present  skilled  workmen  are  the  dominant  type 
of  stalwarts  (38) . 

11.  Stages  in  the  Progress  of  Thought,  pp.  38-50. 

Economic  development  has  increased  wealth  and  made  possible  a  com- 
parison and  substitution  of  goods.  They  are  thought  of  in  incre- 
ments rather  than  as  indispensable  conditions  to  well-being  (39). 
Combining  goods  is  aesthetic  rather  than  economic.  The  groups  of 
goods  are  again  thought  of  as  wholes  and  excite  motor  reactions.  In 
contrast  with  economics  and  aesthetics,  which  treat  of  goods,  morals 
and  religion  treat  of  environments  (40).  Religion  owes  its  origin  to 
the  tendency  of  men  to  contrast  different  environments  (41).  In- 
creasing knowledge  raises  both  morals  and  religion  to  higher  and 
higher  planes,  but  they  are  always  kept  distinct  (42).  The  history 
of  thought  has  four  stages  :  the  economic,  the  aesthetic,  the  moral,  and 
the  religious  (43).  Each  new  environment  originates  a  new  chapter 
in  thought  history,  starting  always  with  the  economic  and  concluding 
with  the  religious.  In  modern  times  each  great  economic  change 
has  given  rise  to  a  new  development  in  each  field  of  thought  (46). 
Though  modern  nations  enjoy  continuous  national  life,  they  differ  as 
much  from  century  to  century  as  did  the  rising  and  falling  civiliza- 
tions of  the  Ancient  World  (47) . 

12.  Curves  of  Thought,  pp.  50-56. 

It  has  been  shown  that  character  is  enduring,  while  the  environment  is 
constantly  undergoing  change.  Economic  conditions  do  not  alone 
shape  national  character  (50).  They  give  rise  to  habitual  motor  reac- 
tions, but  these  may  be  connected  with  some  new  exciting  cause  when 
the  old  conditions  cease  to  be  important  (51).  Every  transition  to  a 
new  environment  tends  to  develop  a  new  type  of  man  and  to  remodel 
old  types.  From  the  new  type  arise  the  economists,  while  the  old 
type  produces  philosophers  (52).  The  former  proceed  on  an  up-curve 
of  thought  from  facts  to  theory,  while  the  latter  move  on  a  downward 
curve  from  theory  to  facts  (53).  In  the  development  of  English 
thought  there  have  been  three  periods  in  which  the  great  thinkers 
were  (1)  Hobbes,  Locke,  and  Newton,  (2)  Mandeville,  Hume,  and 
Adam  Smith,  (3)  Mai  thus,  Mill,  and  Darwin  (55). 


Xll  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  II 
The  Antecedents  op  English  Thought 

1.  Primal  Economic  Conditions,  pp.  57-65. 

Modern  characteristics  originated  under  primitive  conditions.  Land  was 
scarce  in  some  localities,  water  in  others.  An  irregular  rainfall  and 
uncertain  climate  tended  to  develop  hope,  patience,  and  humility  (57). 
More  settled  conditions  taught  men  to  oppose  rather  than  to  yield  to 
nature.  Wrath  and  a  tendency  to  react  vigorously  against  oppression 
or  a  source  of  pain  resulted  (58).  Resistance  taught  men  to  co- 
operate, and  this  made  them  moral  (59).  Civilization  demands  a 
movable  surplus,  the  desire  for  which  caused  most  of  the  great  migra- 
tions (60).  On  it  depended  the  existence  of  a  ruling  class  (61).  A 
sociocracy  exists  when  the  more  social  elements  in  a  community 
exploit  the  less  social  (62).  It  deems  itself  a  chosen  people  and 
aims  at  peace  rather  than  justice  in  its  relations  with  inferiors  (62). 
The  instincts  of  primitive  races  are  due  to  the  conditions  found  in 
cold,  wet  countries,  or  hot,  dry  countries,  or  countries  in  which  one 
race  dominates  another.  The  Germanic,  the  Semitic,  and  the  Roman 
civilizations  correspond  to  these  three  conditions.  They  were  charac- 
terized respectively  by  morality,  religion,  and  civil  law  (64). 

2.  The  Early  Germans,  pp.  65-68. 

They  lived  in  a  cold,  damp  climate,  which  developed  vigorous  constitu- 
tions and  strong  appetites  (65).  Exposure  was  the  chief  check  on 
population.  The  strong,  who  survived,  were  bound  together  by  firm 
social  bonds  (66).    Religious  ideas  were  little  developed  (67). 

3.  The  Catholic  Supremacy,  pp.  68-74. 

Starting  as  a  religious  institution,  the  Church  soon  became  a  political 
power  (68).  The  Roman  Church  put  authority  and  submission  above 
inspiration  and  freedom  (69).  Its  supremacy  in  the  North  was  due 
to  economic  necessity  rather  than  conversion  (70).  The  mediaeval 
monasteries  were  great  centres  of  industry  (71)  They  taught  native 
peoples  how  to  get  most  from  the  land  (72).  Local  religious  organi- 
zations were  quite  independent  (73).  But  the  secular  clergy  kept 
them  in  touch  with  Rome  (74) . 

4.  The  Economic  Influence  of  the  Early  Church,  pp.  74-78. 

The  conception  of  a  future  life  fostered  forethought  in  the  present 
life  (75).  The  Church  broke  up  the  patriarchal  family  by  making 
converts  (76).  It  elevated  women  and  freed  slaves ;  made  trusts 
more  sacred  and  broke  down  national  boundaries  (77). 


CONTENTS  xiii 

6.   The  Fifteenth  Century,  pp.  78-84. 

Notable  events  were  the  invention  of  printing,  the  discovery  of  America, 
and  the  use  of  gunpowder  and  the  magnet.  The  latter  revolutionized 
ocean  travel  (78).  Cheap  salt  and  spices  changed  the  diet  of  the 
Germans.  Gunpowder  broke  down  the  feudal  system  (79).  Other 
changes  were  the  use  of  bricks,  glass  windows,  beer,  and  woollen 
clothing  (80).  These  inventions  and  changes  made  indoor  life 
agreeable  (81).  The  Protestant  Reformers  exalted  family  life  and 
condemned  communal  pleasures  (83). 

6.  Political  Conditions,  pp.  84-89. 

The  fifteenth  century  was  a  "golden  age  for  the  labourer."  Fighting 
was  less  general  than  histories  indicate  (84).  Germany  was  quite 
free  from  it  except  in  private  feuds  (85).  War  became  less  horri- 
ble, because  conducted  by  nobles  instead  of  mercenaries  (86).  The 
Renaissance  helped  the  Reformation,  but  these  movements  had  little 
in  common  (87).  The  Church  shrank  from  persecuting  the  new 
Reformers  as  it  had  Huss  (88). 

7.  The  Church  Programme,  pp.  89-91. 

The  ideal  of  the  Church  was  peace  through  obedience  (89).  It  realized 
its  political  and  economic  aims  (90).  It  failed  in  the  domain  of 
morals  (91). 

8.  Crime  and  Vice,  pp.  91-95. 

Primitive  conditions  developed  greed  and  hate  (91).  Greed  becomes 
vice  where  there  is  an  abundant  food  supply  (92) .  Christian  morality 
makes  murder  one  of  the  worst  crimes  (93).  To  escape  temptation 
the  Church  advised  immolation  (94).  This  did  not  prevent  either 
vice  or  crime  (95). 

9.  Indulgences,  pp.  95-97. 

Indulgences  rested  on  principles  antedating  the  Church  (96).  The  Ger- 
man considered  crime  and  vice  social  offences  and  revolted  against  a 
scheme  of  commutation  (97). 

10.  Social  Problems,  pp.  97-101. 

Vice  was  increasing  at  the  same  time  the  Church  was  becoming  more 
lax,  and  this  made  a  moral  reaction  inevitable  (98).  Protestantism 
could  not  check  vice,  but  evolution  did  (99).  Protestantism  was 
superior,  because  it  allowed  free  play  to  natural  forces  (100). 

11.  The  New  Wave  of  Sensualism,  pp.  101-107. 

The  changes  described  threw  many  new  careers  open  to  adventurous 
sensualists  (101).     The  sensual  reversion  that  resulted  was  in  no 


xiv  CONTENTS 

sense  the  result  of  the  Reformation  (102).  Luther's  mistake  was 
to  think  that  Hebrew  morality  would  meet  the  needs  of  the  Ger- 
mans (103).  The  sensual  reversion  led  to  a  rapid  exploitation  of 
the  New  World,  which  enriched  and  then  destroyed  the  power  of 
Spain  (104).  The  religious  wars  of  the  sixteenth  century  killed  off 
many  of  the  sensualists,  hut  left  a  breach  in  the  Church  still  un- 
healed (106).  Through  the  whole  period  development  on  the  conti- 
nent was  complicated  by  abnormal  tendencies ;  but  in  England  these 
were  less  active  (107). 

CHAPTER  IH 

The  Calvinists 

1.  Calvinism,  pp.  108-112. 

The  dominance  of  the  desire  for  peace  and  security  yielded  before  three 
local  tendencies:  the  aesthetic,  the  moral,  and  Calvinism  (108).  Cal- 
vinism took  root  where  clannish  sentiments  were  strong,  —  in  the 
mountains  and  among  city  artisans  (109-111).  Its  attitude  was 
legal,  not  moral  (111-112). 

2.  Frugalism,  pp.  112-117. 

The  primitive  man's  idea  of  self  was  synthetic,  embracing  whatever 
arms,  tools,  lands,  etc.,  were  necessary  to  his  independent  position 
as  warrior,  weaver,  farmer,  etc.  (112-114).  Instances  of  this  mental 
attitude  may  yet  be  found,  although  goods  are  now  generally  viewed 
merely  as  capital  (115).  This  synthetic  or  enlarged  idea  of  self  is 
a  characteristic  of  the  frugalist,  and  was  prevalent  in  the  days  of 
Calvin  (116-117). 

3.  Word  Visualism,  pp.  117-122. 

The  art  of  printing  placed  the  written  word,  because  representative  of 
the  Holy  Writ,  above  custom  and  tradition  (117-118).  The  reader 
requires  a  higher  order  of  mental  mechanism  than  the  observer ;  the 
stimuli  are  weaker,  and  the  power  to  visualize  must  be  developed. 
The  Cavalier  was  an  observer,  the  Puritan  a  reader  and  visualizer 
(118-119).  Visualization  was  the  Puritan's  test  of  truth  (121).  The 
Puritan  was  the  first  modern  stalwart,  and  his  method  of  visualiza- 
tion has  transformed  modern  life  (122). 

4.  Puritan  Opposition  to  Vice,  pp.  122-126. 

Character  and  vice  are  concepts  or  word  pictures,  and  the  power  to 
visualize  is  necessary  to  their  perception.  The  Church  had  opposed 
crime,  which  was  a  concrete  act ;  the  Puritans  attacked  vice,  for  it 
defiled  their  ideals,  especially  that  of  home,  which  was  opposed  to 
the  coarse  pleasures  of  communal  life  (123-124).     The  Puritans  put 


CONTENTS  XV 

to  a  new  use  the  clan  concept  (124).  Believing  that  the  inner  man 
was  objectified  in  his  acts,  they  sought  to  impose  their  standards  upon 
the  nation  (125).  They  denounced  especially  the  two  leading  sins  of 
the  sensualists :  adultery  and  profanity  (126). 

.  Merry  England,  pp.  126-130. 

The  conditions  of  a  progressive  civilization  were  reached  later  in 
England  than  in  other  European  countries,  but  progress,  when  it 
began,  was  much  more  rapid  there  than  elsewhere  (126-127).  When 
the  environment  suddenly  improved,  gross  indulgence  of  the  appe- 
tites resulted,  similar  to  that  now  seen  in  a  mining  camp  (128-129). 
Germany  furnished  a  marked  contrast  to  England.  Progress  in  the 
former  was  slow  but  continuous  and  all  the  people  rose,  whereas  in 
England  progress  was  spasmodic  (129-130). 

.   Primitive  Traits,  pp.  130-134. 

England's  severe  climate  permitted  the  survival  in  early  times  of  only 
the  most  vigorous,  those  with  strong  appetites  (130-131).  The  sud- 
den improvement  in  the  environment  plunged  the  natural  Englishman 
into  dissipation,  in  which  he  vented  the  excess  of  his  animal  spirits 
(131).  The  Puritans,  who  lived  much  indoors,  did  not  comprehend 
the  primitive  exhibitions  of  passion  and  called  them  idolatrous,  their 
effects  being  summed  up  as  adultery  (132).  The  Puritans  misunder- 
stood early  marriage  relations.  Primitive  women  dreaded  barrenness. 
Not  until  after  the  disintegration  of  clans  under  the  influence  of 
economic  progress,  did  chastity  become  a  dominant  virtue  (132-133). 
The  Church  had  not  sharply  condemned  sensual  indulgences  (133- 
134). 

.  Public  Amusements,  pp.  134-139. 

The  amusements  of  Cavalier  England  were  crude,  brutal,  and  silly. 
Festival  days  occupied  nearly  half  the  year,  so  eager  were  the  sen- 
sualists to  utilize  the  advantages  of  the  economic  revolution  (134- 
136).  Woman's  virtue  was  lightly  held  because  of  the  desire  for 
an  increase  of  population,  the  plagues  having  caused  a  scarcity  of 
labor  (138).  The  regularity  of  the  Puritan's  life  saved  him  from 
the  plague  and  widened  the  gulf  between  him  and  the  sensualist 
(138-139). 

The  Disappearance  of  the  Puritans,  pp.  139-142. 

It  was  impossible  that  either  the  Puritan  or  the  sensualist  should 
triumph,  for  the  Tories  and  the  Church  party  sided  now  with  the 
one,  now  with  the  other,  in  opposition  to  change  (139-140).  Fur- 
thermore, the  Puritans,  lacking  the  idea  of  comfort,  followed  a 
defective  economic  programme  and  were  annihilated  by  consump- 
tion.    Their  fate  was  hardly  analogous  to  that  of  the  Hebrews  after 


xvi  CONTENTS 

the  Babylonian  exile  (140-141).     The  Puritan  and  his  creed  both 
paid  the  penalty  of  a  neglect  of  economic  conditions  (141-142). 

9.  On  the  Interpretation  of  Great  Writers,  pp.  142-144. 

A  great  thinker  does  not  present  truth  in  the  same  way  that  he  finds 
it.  The  road  to  discovery  is  inductive,  but  in  the  presentation  of 
truth  a  thinker  usually  adopts  the  methods  of  the  popular  science 
of  the  day  and  expresses  his  ideas  in  deductive  form  (142-143). 
The  reader  who  wishes  to  know  a  writer's  real  development  must 
not  accept  his  own  statements,  but  must  carefully  note  minor  details, 
especially  variations  in  his  forms  of  expression  (143-144). 

10.  Thomas  Hobbes,  pp.  144-157. 

Hobbes  upheld  the  divine  right  of  kings  in  a  social  theory  made  mechani- 
cal by  a  love  for  mathematics.  The  body  of  his  books  was  thought 
out  in  his  youth ;  the  dogmatic  form  was  imposed  later  as  a  result  of 
his  passion  for  mathematics  (144-145).  His  idea  of  a  state  of  war, 
commonly  assumed  to  be  his  starting-point,  was  really  an  after- 
thought (146).  Hobbes's  doctrines  furnished  no  solution  of  the 
social  difficulties  (147-149).  In  the  Leviathan  the  order  of  his  early 
essays  is  reversed  (149-152).  He  did  not  study  nature,  and  was  care- 
less about  facts.  His  definitions  of  the  virtues  are  parodies  on  the 
Puritan  character  (153-157). 

11.  John  Locke,  pp.  157-170. 

Locke  was  in  reality  an  economist  on  the  upward  curve  from  observa- 
tion to  philosophy  (157-159).  He  was  a  Puritan  plus  the  ideal  of 
comfort  (160).  His  philosophy  begins  with  the  idea  that  there  are 
"things  in  their  own  nature  indifferent,"  in  which  he  differed  from 
the  Puritans  (161-162).  This  principle  of  indifference,  which  led 
him  to  attack  enthusiam  and  superstition,  was  his  most  important 
contribution  to  thought  (163-165).  Analysis  of  his  Essay  on  the 
Human  Understanding  shows  that  his  method  was  at  first  altrospec- 
tive  (165-166) .  "  New  discoveries  "  led  him  to  adopt  the  introspective 
method,  and  despite  his  opposition  to  the  "  inner  light "  of  the  enthu- 
siasts, he  finds  in  his  own  mind  an  "internal  sense,"  modifies  his 
views,  and  recognizes  reflection  as  a  source  of  ideas  (167-170). 

12.  Results  of  Locke's  Analysis,  pp.  170-175. 

Contemporary  thought  was  affected  by  Locke's  two  great  principles  of 
indifference  and  correspondence,  but  its  development  was  forced  into 
unexpected  channels  by  the  discovery  of  the  principle  of  the  asso- 
ciation of  ideas,  which  had  not  been  clearly  perceived  by  Locke 
(170-172).  This  principle  rendered  Locke's  analysis  worthless  when 
applied  to  social  affairs,  and  furnishes  an  explanation  of  his  frequent 


CONTENTS  xvii 

revision  of  the  chapter  on  "Power,"  in  which  he  confronted  the 
same  difficulty  that  faces  every  one  who  analyzes  a  race  ideal  (172-173). 
Locke  subjected  race  ideals  to  a  process  analogous  to  that  of  the 
chemist  or  distiller.  His  method  is  well  illustrated  in  his  Beasondble- 
ness  of  Christianity,  which  provoked  great  opposition  because  it 
destroyed  the  concrete  pictures  of  the  Bible  (173-175). 

13.  The  Deists,  pp.  175-184. 

Viewed  in  connection  with  the  practical  work  of  Locke,  deism  is  a 
stage  in  the  development  of  religious  thought  beginning  with  Locke 
and  ending  with  Wesley  (175).  The  Deists  were  not  attacking 
Christianity,  but  superstition,  their  premises  being  derived  from 
Locke's  principle  of  correspondence  (176).  The  Reformation  had 
changed  ideas  with  regard  to  the  New  Testament,  but  had  not  altered 
the  primitive  concept  of  God,  and  it  was  this  which  the  Deists  attacked 
(177-179).  The  Old  Testament  emphasizes  a  God  of  "Wrath ;  the 
New  Testament,  a  God  of  Love  (179-180).  Locke's  emphasis  of 
the  New  Testament  started  a  revolution  in  religious  thought,  which 
was  continued  by  the  Deists.  A  concept  of  God  in  harmony  with 
new  economic  conditions  was  the  result  (180-181).  God  was  now 
viewed  as  Father  of  men,  rather  than  as  God  of  Wrath  (181-184). 

14.  The  Outcome,  pp.  184-190. 

Morality  was  placed  upon  an  independent  basis ;  and  the  Puritans  were 
split  into  two  classes:  stalwarts  and  mugwumps  (184-185).  The 
mugwumps,  of  whom  Locke  was  a  type,  for  a  long  time  ruled  by 
the  power  of  compromise  (186).  There  was  an  important  separation 
of  law  from  morality  and  religion  (186-187).  In  contrast  to  France, 
England  has  been  stable  and  unrational  in  government,  but  unstable 
and  rational  in  religion  (187-188).  Since  the  time  of  Locke,  there 
has  been  practically  no  development  of  political  thought  in  England 
(188-190). 

CHAPTER   rV 

The  Moralists 

1.  Picture  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  pp.  191-204. 
Progress  ceased  to  be  a  struggle  against  foreign  influence,  and  resulted 
from  internal  conditions  and  ideas  (191-192).  The  decline  of  com- 
munal life  brought  forward  complementary  home  comforts  (192-193). 
There  was  an  important  revolution  in  agriculture  and  in  the  condition 
of  rural  labouring  classes,  their  diet  being  improved  by  the  use  of  ovens 
and  their  clothing  by  the  use  of  wool  and  cotton  (193-196).  The 
transference  of  industries  from  the  cities  also  helped  the  country, 
especially  since  it  tended  to  make  women  independent  (197-198). 


xviii  CONTENTS 

Except  in  the  towns  England  was  prospering,  yet  because  old  indus- 
tries languished  people  talked  of  hard  times  (198-200).  Meantime, 
commercial  development  was  lowering  the  morals  of  cities,  although 
it  was  ridding  the  nation  of  its  sensualists  (200-201).  In  the  seven- 
teenth century  reform  had  started  in  the  cities ;  in  the  eighteenth  its 
origin  was  in  the  country  (202-204). 

2.  Bernard  Mandeville,  pp.  204-212. 

The  new  epoch  began  with  The  Fable  of  the  Bees,  the  work  of  an 
observer,  giving  crude  utterance  to  new  ideas  suited  to  the  new 
environment  (204-205).  Contending  that  private  vices  are  public 
benefits,  because  the  pursuit  of  wealth  was  beneficial,  he  forced  his 
opponents  to  make  a  new  definition  of  vice  and  a  new  concept  of 
human  nature  (205-207).  His  main  thought  —  that  spending,  not 
saving,  promotes  prosperity  —  was  bitterly  opposed  (207).  Adam 
Smith's  doctrine  of  self-interest  is  a  refined  statement  of  Mandeville' s 
paradox  (208) .  He  was  contemptuous,  not  of  moral,  but  of  social 
virtues,  and  was  a  genuine  economist,  though  not  an  "orthodox" 
one  (210-212). 

3.  David  Hume,  pp.  212-225. 

Hume  was  the  successor  of  Mandeville  (212-213).  His  Treatise  on 
Human  Nature  shows  that  he  designed  a  work  on  social  psychology, 
following  Mandeville,  and  not  on  individual  psychology,  following 
Locke  (213-215).  A  comparison  of  the  Treatise  with  the  revised 
and  castigated  Inquiry  gives  a  clue  to  his  development,  showing  that 
he  regretted  the  expression  of  his  youthful  views  on  the  Passions 
(216-219).  Mandeville's  tirade  against  physicians  doubtless  influ- 
enced young  Hume  and  started  the  train  of  thought  which  led  to  his 
denial  that  reason  had  any  influence  upon  the  will,  and  then  to  the 
general  denial  of  any  unseen  connection  between  cause  and  effect, 
which  was  to  give  "an  everlasting  check  to  all  kinds  of  superstitious 
delusions  "  (219-222).  Bishop  Butler's  Evidences  led  him  away  from 
the  scepticism  of  Mandeville  (223-224).  Hume's  development  had 
four  distinct  stages,  and  for  each  there  was  in  reality  an  edition  of 
the  Treatise  (225). 

4.  Adam  Smith,  pp.  226-243. 

Smith's  work  continued  the  scheme  of  Hume  (226).  The  doctrines  in 
the  Wealth  of  Nations  are  all  found  in  the  fragmentary  literature  of 
the  preceding  epoch  (227).  Smith's  unique  service  was  the  applica- 
tion of  certain  principles  of  human  nature  to  economic  discussions, 
whereby  morals  were  robbed  of  much  of  their  traditional  field  (228). 
The  notion  that  he  borrowed  his  doctrines  from  the  Physiocrats  is  not 
supported  by  evidence  ;  revenue  was  apparently  the  only  subject  in 


CONTENTS  xix 

which  he  had  common  interest  with  the  Physiocrats  (228-229).  The 
Wealth  of  Nations  was  not  thought  out  or  written  in  France  ;  it  grew 
out  of  English  facts  and  conditions,  and  it  represents  two  widely 
separated  stages  in  the  author's  development  (230-235).  A  bank 
failure  forced  home  on  him  the  difference  between  money  and  capital 
(235-236).  Patriotism  and  his  belief  in  the  "divine  plan"  led  him 
to  develop  Dean  Tucker's  theory  as  to  the  advantages  of  abundant 
capital  (236-237).  His  theory  of  distribution  originated  in  discus- 
sions about  the  improvement  of  land  (237-238).  His  theory  of  pro- 
ductive labour  was  born  of  his  opposition  to  the  views  of  Mandeville 
and  Steuart  in  favour  of  prodigality  (239-242).  The  Wealth  of 
Nations  was  a  new  type  of  natural  theology  (242-243). 

5.  The  Religious  Revival,  pp.  243-248. 

The  important  features  of  Methodism  are  those  which  affected  other 
religious  bodies  (243) .  The  Puritans  and  the  plagues  had  disappeared 
together,  and  religion  needed  a  new  reenf  orcement  of  its  claims.  Old 
restraints  had  been  removed  and  society  had  been  forced  below  the 
normal  level  (244-245).  The  downfall  of  the  Puritans  had  been  fol- 
lowed by  a  suppression  of  religious  activity  and  enthusiasm.  Yet 
English  labourers,  their  economic  life  having  narrowed,  craved  intense 
activity  in  other  fields  (246-248). 

6.  Whitefield  and  Wesley,  pp.  248-251. 

These  two  men  took  advantage  of  the  economic  situation  and  gave 
Englishmen  in  religion  an  outlet  for  their  suppressed  motor  tenden- 
cies (248).  Wesley  was  superstitious  and  could  not  have  succeeded 
alone  (248-249).  He  was  supplemented  by  Whitefield,  a  visualizer, 
who  did  not,  like  Wesley,  rely  on  earthquakes,  plagues,  and  wars  to 
enforce  his  warnings.  Whitefield  alone  would  have  caused  only  a 
temporary  excitement  and  reaction  toward  earlier  ideals  (250-251). 

7.  The  Manly  and  Womanly  Elements  in  Religion,  pp.  251-256. 

One  reason  for  the  failure  of  Calvinism  was  that  its  controlling  prin- 
ciple, predestination,  induces  resignation,  a  characteristic  of  women. 
Arminianism  emphasizes  man's  power  over  the  environment.  The 
mental  attitude  of  women  is  reflected  in  religion  when  society  must 
submit  to  evils  beyond  human  control  (251).  Women  strove  to  break 
up  the  old  communal  pleasures  and  to  substitute  those  of  the  home 
(252) .  Their  eagerness  for  economic  goods  and  home  life  added  to 
their  social  importance,  but  their  new  work  and  activity  intensified 
their  suffering  as  mothers  and  increased  their  natural  spirit  of  resigna- 
tion (253) .  Those  families  throve  best  in  which  the  men  reflected  the 
feelings  that  inspired  their  wives,  and  thus  a  new  type  of  men  arose 
that  accepted  the  standards  of  women  (254).     The  Puritans  were 


XX  CONTENTS 

"womanly  men"  in  the  sense  that  they  strove  for  purity  and  other 
womanly  virtues.  Whitefield  belonged  to  this  class.  But  the  new 
epoch  demanded  manly  qualities,  for  the  few  evils  existing  were  sur- 
mountable. So  Methodism  brought  to  the  front  manly  men  of  strong 
wills,  Wesley  being  their  leader  (255) . 

8.  Methodism,  pp.  256-264. 

Wesley  was  an  observer  and  emphasized  psychic  manifestations  of  con- 
version (256-258).  Methodism  utilized  motor  reactions  for  which 
there  had  been  no  outlet  since  the  abandonment  of  communal  pleas- 
ures. Revivals  and  love-feasts,  substitutes  for  the  old  pleasures, 
were  conducted  by  men,  while  women  took  a  new  position  in  the 
home  (259).  Wesley's  emphasis  of  psychic  standards  created  new 
religious  ideals :  the  sympathetic  Christ,  and  God  as  an  active  and 
interested  Father  (259-260).  The  psychic  standard  divided  the 
Church  into  two  parts,  Wesley  heading  a  quasi-clan  inside  the  Church 
(261-263).  Psychic  standards  destroy  fine  distinctions.  So  Method- 
ism marks  the  decline  of  creed-making  and  sect-building  (263-264). 

9.  The  Joint  Influence  of  Adam  Smith  and  Wesley,  pp.  264-274. 

To  comprehend  the  change  in  English  thought  it  is  necessary  to  unite 
the  work  of  Wesley  and  Adam  Smith.  Smith  transferred  from  morals 
all  principles  except  that  of  sympathy,  and  this  Wesley  appropriated 
for  religion  (264-265) .  Morals  are  rationalized  customs,  habits,  and 
traditions,  and  often  prompt  men  to  actions  out  of  harmony  with  their 
environment  (266) .  Of  the  three  elements  of  civilization,  the  lif e  and 
heart  can  be  brought  into  harmony  with  new  conditions,  but  the  intel- 
lect resists  adjustment  (267-268).  The  real  basis  of  morals  is  wrath, 
which  is  a  result  of  violent  reactions  against  pain.  The  "manly 
man"  feels  wrath;  the  "womanly"  or  "good"  man  feels  sympathy 
(268-269).  Methodism  and  economics  both  tended  to  create  a  non- 
moral  state  of  mind,  which  has  remained  a  marked  characteristic 
of  English  civilization  (270-271).  While  the  new  ideals  made  people 
non-moral,  they  did  not  make  them  less  conscientious  (273).  Eng- 
lishmen now  ceased  to  be  cosmopolitan,  and  became  more  individual 
and  forceful  (273-274). 

CHAPTER  V 

The  Economists 

1.   The  Decline  of  France,  pp.  275-286. 
In  the  eighteenth  century  the  rapid  economic  development  of  England 
placed  France  in  a  subordinate  position  (275-276).     The  resulting 
internal  disorder  in  France  was  used  by  English  prophets  and  moral- 


CONTENTS  xxi 

ists  to  combat  reforms  they  disliked  (277).  The  struggle  for  com- 
mand of  the  wheat  supply  was  the  real  cause  of  the  shifting  of  national 
power  (278).  This  struggle  was  intensified  by  the  prevalence  of  the 
theory  that  individual  and  national  welfare  were  measured  by  the  con- 
sumption of  bread  (280-281).  In  England  the  struggles  for  liberty, 
for  comfort,  and  for  equality  took  place  in  different  epochs,  and 
development  therefore  was  orderly  (281).  In  France  the  attempt 
to  satisfy  these  three  popular  demands  in  one  epoch  led  to  a  sharp 
break  with  the  environment,  and  resulted  in  instability  and  revolution 
(281-282) .  The  slow  increase  of  productive  power  in  France  caused 
the  masses  to  confiscate  the  funded  income  of  the  wealthier  classes  ; 
but  as  this  was  insufficient  to  satisfy  the  new  standards  of  comfort, 
attempts  were  made  to  obtain  the  surplus  of  other  nations  (283-285) . 
The  greater  resources  and  prosperity  of  England  prevented  the  suc- 
cess of  this  movement  (285). 

2.  The  Utopists,  pp.  286-296. 

The  Calvinistic  view  of  life  was  essentially  feminine,  fostering  the 
"home"  ideal  and  regarding  the  world  as  a  place  for  trial  and 
tribulation  (286-287).  The  philosophy  of  the  Utopists  and  the 
utilitarians  was  masculine,  making  human  happiness  the  end  of 
action  (288).  They  believed  in  a  far-distant  social  Utopia,  and  in 
the  possibility  of  preparing  every  one  for  this  ideal  state  through 
reasoning,  religion,  and  art  (289-290).  The  Utopists  were  foreign- 
hearted  and  cosmopolitan  (290-291).  The  success  of  the  Ricardian 
programme,  upon  which  the  Benthamites  and  the  economists  united, 
combined  with  the  lack  of  sympathy  with  popular  movements,  pre- 
vented the  Utopists  from  making  any  positive  contributions  to  social 
progress  (292-294).  By  increasing  the  definiteness  of  the  popular 
bread  philosophy,  the  economic  utilitarians  succeeded  in  convincing 
men  intellectually  (295-296).  Their  materialism  was,  however,  re- 
pugnant to  the  Utopists,  who  drifted  into  visionary  schemes  for  social 
betterment  (296). 

3.  Thomas  Malthus,  pp.  296-303. 

The  application  of  Utopian  ideals  to  concrete  governmental  problems 
led  to  a  conflict  between  the  Utopists  and  the  defenders  of  the  exist- 
ing social  order  (296-297).  The  Malthusian  law  of  population  was 
repugnant  to  the  religious  feelings,  because  it  reflected  on  God's  plan 
of  the  Universe  (298-299).  It  was  repugnant  to  the  moral  feelings 
because  it  taught  that  progress  meant  increase  of  poverty  (299). 
Thus  a  conflict  between  the  moralists  and  the  economists  was 
aroused  (299-300).  The  position  of  the  economists  was  strength- 
ened by  the  acceptance  of  the  "  bread  philosophy,"  by  the  doctrine 
that  an  increase  of  the  food  supply  required  capital  as  well  as  land, 


XXli  .        CONTENTS 

and  finally  by  the  formulation  of  the  law  of  diminishing  returns 
(300-301).  The  logical  result  of  the  general  acceptance  of  these 
doctrines  was  the  conviction  that  equality  and  progress  were  incom- 
patible (302).  Progress  being  the  higher  law,  the  English,  as  a  pro- 
gressive nation,  had  to  favour  non-moral  standards,  leading  to  the 
eradication  of  the  inefficient  (302-303). 

4.  David  Ricardo,  pp.  303-311. 

In  Ricardo's  reasoning  the  presuppositions  of  natural  religion  are  ab- 
sent (303).  Like  Mandeville,  he  saw  only  the  objective  England, 
eliminating  the  ideal  environment  to  which  Englishmen  clung  (304). 
His  real  service  was  in  turning  men's  attention  to  new  schemes  of 
social  progress  more  in  harmony  with  the  actual  conditions  of  English 
civilization  (305).  He  had  in  mind  an  industrial  society,  whereas 
Malthus  viewed  national  prosperity  from  an  agricultural  standpoint 
(306-308).  The  law  of  rent  and  of  diminishing  returns  led  to  the 
conclusion  that  nations  are  brought  to  a  stationary  state  before  the 
essentials  of  a  high  civilization  are  acquired  (309).  The  adoption  of 
Ricardo's  ideas  by  Bentham  and  James  Mill  led  to  the  creation  of  a 
new  economic  philosophy,  for  which  Ricardo  furnished  the  practical 
programme  (310-311). 

5.  The  Economic  Philosophy,  pp.  311-318. 

The  general  acceptance  of  the  Newtonian  principles  gave  to  the  concrete 
propositions  of  the  social  sciences  a  philosophic  basis  which  they  had 
hitherto  lacked  (311-312).  Bentham  was  the  first  to  give  to  pleasure 
and  pain  a  place  in  social  reasoning  similar  to  that  of  gravitation  in 
physical  science  (312).  Ricardo  was  able  to  supplement  Bentham's 
negative  utilitarianism  because  of  his  acquaintance  with  urban  indus- 
trial conditions  (313).  The  creation  of  the  new  economic  philosophy 
through  a  combination  of  the  ideas  of  Bentham  and  Ricardo  was  the 
work  of  James  Mill  (313-314).  He  revived  the  mental  attitude  of  a 
pure  pain  economy,  characteristic  of  the  primitive  philosophy  of 
earlier  days  (315-316).  As  a  radical  and  a  democrat,  his  hatred  for 
the  aristocracy  was  increased  through  his  acceptance  of  Ricardo's 
economic  doctrines  (316-317).  The  shifting  of  political  power  from 
the  landlords  to  the  capitalists  caused  Mill's  economic  creed  to  be 
turned  against  the  labouring  classes  (317). 

6.  John  Stuart  Mill,  pp.  318-343. 

The  service  of  John  Stuart  Mill  was  to  enrich  the  creed  of  the  economic 
utilitarians  with  the  human  traits  they  had  neglected,  and  to  bring 
their  philosophy  into  closer  relation  with  the  history  of  the  English 
people  (318).  He  was  by  temperament  a  "  womanly  man  "  ;  his  edu- 
cation, however,  had  taught  him  the  standards  of  the  "manly  man" 


CONTENTS  xxiii 

and  led  him  to  begin  life  in  the  negative  r61e  of  a  destructive  re- 
former (319-320).  The  study  of  Wordsworth's  poetry,  and  the  influ- 
ence of  Sterling  and  of  Saint-Simon,  created  in  him  a  new  ideal  of 
social  progress  (321).  Positive  ideals  of  pleasure  destroyed  his  confi- 
dence in  Bentham's  negative  utilitarianism  (322).  When  Mill  began 
his  Logic,  his  plan  was  to  show  the  similarity  of  method  in  physical 
science  and  political  economy  (324).  We  find  this  idea  in  the  purely 
formal  part  of  his  Logic,  in  which  he  tries  to  complete  the  work  of 
Hume  by  developing  a  social  science  based  on  the  study  of  character 
(325-327).  The  real  content  and  valuable  portion  of  the  work  was 
the  new  combination  of  induction  and  deduction,  traceable  directly 
to  the  Ricardian  method  of  reasoning  (328-329).  The  new  ideal  of 
proof  and  reasoning  which  he  created  affected  men  in  their  general 
opinions  rather  than  in  their  scientific  studies  (330-331).  His  attempt 
to  make  social  sciences  conform  to  the  method  of  the  physical  sci- 
ences has  hampered  the  progress  of  social  investigations  (331-334). 
In  his  Political  Economy,  Mill,  instead  of  rigidly  applying  the  law 
of  physical  causation,  as  the  theory  of  his  Logic  would  require, 
draws  a  distinction  between  the  laws  of  production  and  the  laws  of 
distribution  (335).  While  the  former  partake  of  the  nature  of  physi- 
cal truths,  the  latter  depend  upon  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  men 
(335).  This  break  with  the  theory  of  his  Logic  was  due  to  the 
influence  of  Mrs.  Mill,  who  inspired  him  with  a  new  hope  of  social 
improvement  (336).  Mill's  own  contributions  to  political  economy 
are  to  be  found  in  the  treatment  of  such  subjects  as  socialism,  coop- 
eration, private  property,  in  which  close  reasoning  is  followed  by  a 
vivid  picture  of  ideal  social  conditions  (337-339).  This  combination 
of  social  ideals  with  economic  reasoning  is  also  characteristic  of  such 
works  as  Progress  and  Poverty,  and  has  contributed  greatly  to  the 
development  of  idealism  (339).  The  permanently  pleasurable  and 
the  perfectly  true  harmonize  (340).  The  concrete  ideal  method  of 
reasoning  introduced  by  Mill  was  the  result  of  a  combination  of  his 
abstract  reasoning  with  the  tendency  towards  concreteness  received 
from  his  wife  (342).  Through  it  social  science  has  acquired  the  con- 
creteness that  Calvinism  gave  to  religion  (343). 

Charles  Darwin,  pp.  343-349. 

Just  as  Adam  Smith  was  the  last  of  the  moralists  and  the  first  of  the 
economists,  so  Darwin  was  the  last  of  the  economists  and  the  first  of 
the  biologists  (343-344) .  Of  the  four  propositions  upon  which  Dar- 
win's argument  rests,  Malthus  contributed  two :  the  limitation  of 
the  food  supply  and  the  rapid  increase  of  each  species  (345).  A 
third  —  the  variability  of  descendants  —  was  already  well  estab- 
lished (345).  The  fourth  —  evolution  due  to  pressure  of  numbers  — 
was  Darwin's  contribution  (346).     Owing  to  the  delay  in  the  pub- 


XXIV  CONTENTS 

lication  of  his  work,  Darwin  is  usually  regarded  as  an  inductive 
inquirer,  whereas  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  was  a  bold  theorizer  (347) . 
His  successors  have  been  inductive,  accumulating  foreign  and  pre- 
historic facts  to  substantiate  the  principle  of  common  ancestry  (348). 
The  effect  of  biologic  habits  of  thought  has  been  to  overestimate  the 
far-off  and  the  foreign  (349). 

8.  The  English  Poets,  pp.  349-356. 

Classicism,  which  dominated  English  literature  and  art,  was  not  in 
harmony  with  native  English  tendencies  (349).  The  adherence  of 
the  Puritans  to  English  customs  and  ideals  led  them  to  oppose  the 
literary  and  artistic  ideals  imported  from  countries  where  activity 
is  disagreeable  (350).  English  conditions  did  not  permit  the  reali- 
zation of  these  ideals  (350).  A  new  literary  and  artistic  movement 
grew  out  of  the  changed  relation  to  nature  created  by  the  improved 
clothing  and  housing  of  the  people  (351).  Active  life  in  the  open 
air  became  pleasurable,  and  more  than  this,  —  a  requisite  for  sur- 
vival (352).  New  inventions  widened  the  range  of  choice  (352). 
English  art  thus  became  associated  with  activity  and  choice  (353) . 
This  new  attitude  was  reflected  in  the  poetry  of  the  early  part  of  the 
century  and  affected  religious  views  (353).  It  also  created  a  belief 
in  the  possibility  of  innocent  pleasures  and  destroyed  the  idea  that 
non-economic  activity  was  a  waste  of  energy  (356). 

9.  The  Oxford  Movement,  pp.  356-359. 

The  ideals  of  the  representatives  of  this  movement  were  essentially  the 
same  as  those  of  the  poets  (356).  Their  search  for  a  new  basis  for 
the  Church  led  them  to  the  Church  of  the  fathers;  viz.  the  early 
Catholic  Church  (357) .  The  subsequent  success  of  the  High  Church 
party  was  due  to  the  fact  that  it  substituted  praise  for  prayer ;  a 
change  which  harmonized  with  the  conditions  of  a  prospering  nation 
(358).  The  Oxford  Movement  thus  became  one  of  the  forces  which 
impressed  utilitarian  standards  on  English  thought  (359). 

10.  The  New  Religious  Ideals,  pp.  359-363. 

The  Methodists  in  substituting  the  thought  of  a  missionary  Christ  for  a 
suffering  Christ  raised  the  concept  to  the  rank  of  a  social  ideal  (359- 
360) .  The  qualities  of  a  mother  protecting  her  son  from  temptation 
came  to  be  associated  with  Jesus  (360).  While  this  change  was 
going  on,  the  concept  of  God  was  also  modified  (361).  The  father 
of  the  English  family  had  gradually  lost  his  commanding  authority 
and  had  come  to  be  regarded  as  the  dispenser  of  bounties  (361). 
This  idea  applied  to  religion  makes  God  Father  and  the  source  of 
all  blessings  (361-362).  Thus,  religious  ideals  are  brought  into 
harmony  with  the  experience  of  the  race  and  stimulate  the  activity 
characteristic  of  modern  religious  life  (363). 


CONTENTS  XXV 

CHAPTER   VI 
Concluding  Remarks 

1.  The  Harmony  of  Religious  and  Economic  Concepts,  pp.  364-368. 

The  reconciliation  of  economics  and  religion  was  the  result  of  a  develop- 
ment of  thought  due  to  the  conflict  between  home  and  communal 
pleasures  (364).  Economic  instincts  have  become  racial,  while 
religious  concepts  have  become  utilitarian  (365).  Religion  and 
economics  now  work  together ;  the  leaders  in  both  fields  have 
essentially  the  same  methods  and  ideals  (365).  The  result  has 
been  to  give  a  unity  to  the  English  race  and  a  distinctive  character 
to  their  civilization,  which  have  aroused  strong  national  feelings 
(366).  In  religious  as  well  as  in  social  life  the  influence  of  the  new 
national  ideals  has  made  itself  felt  (367).  The  supremacy  of  the 
English-speaking  race  will  depend  upon  the  degree  to  which  these 
ideals  enable  it  to  cope  with  the  conditions  of  a  world  environment 
(368). 

2.  The  Influence  of  Science,  pp.  368-373. 

The  relative  development  of  the  motor  and  sensory  powers  is  the  real 
issue  in  the  struggle  between  science  and  religion  (368-369).  In  the 
present  environment  of  the  English  people  motor  activity  rather  than 
sensory  analysis  constitutes  the  requisite  for  survival  (370).  Science 
has  exerted  its  influence  on  methods  of  reasoning  rather  than  on  the 
content  of  national  ideas  (370-371).  Through  inventions  and  dis- 
coveries, however,  science  has  changed  the  conditions  of  the  environ- 
ment, permitting  a  new  type  of  man,  with  changed  mental  reactions, 
to  survive  (371).  The  pressure  of  economic  conditions  rather  than 
the  force  of  scientific  exposition  changes  men's  opinions  and  beliefs 
(372-373). 

3.  Socialism,  pp.  373-376. 

Socialism,  having  a  haven  of  rest  as  its  ideal,  shows  a  tendency  to  over- 
emphasize the  mechanical  aids  to  progress  (373-374).  While  this 
ideal  is  attractive  to  those  who  are  overworked  and  to  those  who 
crave  sensory  gratifications,  it  is  repugnant  to  the  active  members  of 
the  race,  especially  to  those  with  the  capitalistic  instincts  (374-375). 
English  conditions  produce  intense  racial  feelings  and  strong  antipa- 
thies, and  are  distinctly  unfavourable  to  cosmopolitan  socialism  (375- 
376). 

4.  Fields  for  Future  Adjustment,  pp.  376-379. 

The  characteristics  of  the  coming  epoch  must  be  sought  in  the  further 
development  of  the  economic  forces  that  have  shaped  the  thought 
and  activities  of  the  last  three  centuries  (376).    The  higher  standards 


xxvi  CONTENTS 

of  our  public  life  and  the  refining  of  our  social  pleasures  give  evi- 
dence of  the  advancing  adjustment  of  the  race  (376-377).  In  morals, 
.on  the  other  hand,  primitive  standards  still  obtain  (377).  With  the 
exception  of  the  poetry  of  the  early  part  of  the  century,  literature 
and  art  have  failed  to  become  national  (377).  Philosophy  and  edu- 
cation still  adhere  to  foreign  methods  and  standards  (378).  Little 
attempt  has  been  made  to  develop  principles  of  politics  and  law- 
adapted  to  the  problems  of  government  with  which  the  English  have 
to  deal  (378-379).  The  adjustment  of  the  race  to  the  conditions  of 
the  present  environment  is  about  half  finished. 

6.   The  New  Environment,  pp.  379-387. 

The  period  since  1873  may  be  regarded  as  an  epoch  of  cheapness  as 
contrasted  with  the  preceding  hundred  years  of  rising  prices  (379) . 
A  steadily  declining  price  of  sugar  has  given  us  a  sugar  diet  in  the 
same  sense  that  the  eighteenth  century  bad  a  bread  diet  (380). 
This  change  has  placed  those  who  adhere  to  the  liquor  diet  at  a 
distinct  economic  disadvantage  (380-381).  As  a  result  a  strong  reac- 
tion against  drinking  habits  has  set  in  (381).  This  change  is  but  a 
part  of  a  larger  movement  which  is  eliminating  from  society  the  over- 
fed as  well  as  the  underfed  (381-382).  The  evils  consequent  upon 
over-nutrition  indirectly  benefit  the  race  by  eliminating  its  less  ac- 
tive members  (382-383).  Over-nutrition  decreases  the  fertility  of 
women,  and  thus  creates  a  sterile  class  that  gradually  dies  out  (384- 
385).  Fathers  and  mothers  upon  whose  ideals  and  activities  social 
progress  depends,  have  not  developed  artistic  instincts,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  artistic  tastes  in  their  present  form  do  not  promote  activity 
(385-386).  Until  the  ideals  of  art  and  literature  promote  activity 
they  will  have  no  permanent  influence  on  the  progress  of  the  race 
(386-387). 

6.   The  Triumph  of  Stalwartism,  pp.  387-393. 

The  opposition  between  the  stalwarts,  sensualists,  and  dingers  has 
enabled  the  mugwumps  to  shape  the  political  policy  of  the  English 
people  (387).  Great  economic  forces  represented  by  the  influence 
of  capitalism  and  the  degenerating  effects  of  liquor  are  gradually 
eliminating  the  dingers  and  will  in  time  place  the  sensualists  at  a 
disadvantage  (388-389).  The  contest  for  supremacy  will  thus  be 
narrowed  down  to  the  mugwumps  and  the  stalwarts  (390).  As  the 
latter  are  men  of  action  and  thus  in  harmony  with  the  conditions 
of  progress,  there  is  little  doubt  as  to  their  ultimate  victory  (391). 
The  coming  stalwartism  will  demand  general  conformity  to  its 
standards.  It  will  make  character  a  test  of  citizenship,  will  exalt 
women  and  womanly  standards,  and  intensify  the  "  home  "  ideal 
(392-393). 


CONTENTS  XXV11 

7.  The  New  Thought  Curves,  pp.  393-398. 

The  struggles  of  the  race  due  to  the  opposition  between  economics 
and  religion  have  now  ceased  (393-394).  In  the  "womanly  man" 
the  reconciliation  of  the  two  is  to  be  found  (394-395).  The  "  manly 
man"  is  expressing  his  objective,  realistic  standards  in  literature 
and  is  dominating  this  field  of  thought  (395).  The  union  of  eco- 
nomic and  religious  tendencies  in  the  stalwart  represents  the  oppos- 
ing movement  in  thought  (396).  It  seems  probable  that  the  "  manly 
man,"  starting  in  literature,  will  do  his  best  work  in  economic  reform 
(396-397).  Likewise,  the  "womanly  man,"  starting  in  economics, 
may  do  his  best  work  in  literature  and  art,  for  his  bold,  vivid  ideals 
and  visions  of  a  future  Utopia  are  certain  in  time  to  take  artistic 
form  (397-398).  The  possibility  is  thus  offered  of  uniting  idealistic 
and  realistic  tendencies  in  the  same  person  (398). 

8.  The  Socializing  of  Natural  Religion,  pp.  398-409. 

The  old  deductive  assumptions  of  the  natural  theologians  are  gradually 
losing  their  hold  upon  the  English  people,  yet  the  underlying  thought 
is  as  powerful  as  ever  (398-399).  The  thought  of  the  sacrifice  of 
the  higher  for  the  lower  life,  which  is  the  principle  of  incarnation, 
is  becoming  a  vital  part  of  English  thought  (400-401).  A  conviction 
is  not  a  certainty,  but  something  that  provokes  activity.  Firm  be- 
liefs are  based  on  a  union  of  sensory  and  motor  evidence.  Sensory 
facts  establish  a  probability  ;  the  motor  response  creates  habitual 
activity  (401-403).  The  capitalistic  instinct  which  leads  men  to 
have  confidence  in  remote  results  strengthens  the  tendency  towards 
belief  in  the  unseen  (404-405).  The  temptations  to  over-nutrition 
are  best  resisted  by  those  who  devote  time  and  energy  to  the  welfare 
of  others  (405-406).  All  these  qualities  —  activity,  hopefulness, 
altruism,  and  confidence  in  the  unseen  —  are  necessary  to  a  higher 
social  state  (406).  Those  possessing  these  qualities  will  be  the  sur- 
viving elements  in  society  (407).  The  laws  of  life,  of  reason,  and  of 
economics  when  combined  present  a  plan  of  the  universe  in  which 
revealed  religion  verifies  the  premises  that  natural  religion  has  estab- 
lished (407-409). 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  THEORY 

The  adjustment  of  an  organism  to  its  environment  de- 
pends on  the  mechanism  through  which  the  mind  acts. 
The  ingoing  nervous  currents  create  the  conscious  ideas 
by  which  a  knowledge  of  the  environment  is  acquired. 
But  this  knowledge  would  have  little  value  did  not  the 
outgoing  nervous  currents  create  movements  adjusting 
the  organism  to  what  it  knows  of  its  environment.  There 
are  thus  two  groups  of  ideas  :  knowledge  or  sensory  ideas 
brought  by  the  senses  from  the  environment,  and  action 
or  motor  ideas  revealing  the  self  struggling  for  those  rela- 
tions to  objective  things  that  ensure  survival.  Knowledge 
of  the  environment  is  increased  by  analytic  habits  of 
thought,  to  form  which  each  part  of  the  mind  must  be- 
come accustomed  to  act  for  itself  ;  for  attention  is  best 
secured  when  all  ideas  except  those  under  consideration 
are  excluded  from  the  field  of  consciousness.  Action, 
however,  demands  that  the  whole  organism  should  respond 
to  the  exciting  stimuli  ;  a  partial  or  slow  response  would 
prevent  that  prompt  adjustment  to  environment  necessary 
for  survival  at  critical  periods. 

The  mental  process  by  which  men  are  adjusted  to  an 
environment,  therefore,  is  of  a  dual  nature.  First  there 
is  a  growth  of  the  sensory  powers.  Men  become  capable 
of  perceiving  more  accurately  the  differences  and  the 
similarities  in  the  phenomena  of  that  part  of  the  outer 

B  l 


2  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

world  with  which  they  come  in  contact.  Each  object  is 
distinguished,  classified,  and  named,  and  in  this  way  a 
mass  of  knowledge  is  acquired,  and  bound  together  by 
associations  that  spring  up  between  the  ideas  of  which 
this  knowledge  is  composed.  Long  sequences  of  ideas 
are  formed,  so  related  that  when  one  of  the  ideas  is  aroused 
in  consciousness  the  others  follow  in  regular  order.  The 
greater  the  knowledge  of  the  environment  and  the  more 
advanced  the  sensory  powers,  the  longer  are  the  series  of 
ideas  and  the  stronger  the  probability  that  any  one  idea 
will  be  followed  by  all  the  others  of  its  series. 

Motor  reactions,  however,  cannot  be  started  by  every 
sensory  idea.  The  great  mass  of  the  distinctions  and  dif- 
ferences presented  by  a  given  environment  to  the  senses 
are  matters  of  indifference  to  those  who  live  in  it.  Only 
those  ideas  that  indicate  the  presence  or  absence  of  requi- 
sites of  survival  lead  to  some  activity  improving  the  ad- 
justment of  the  man  to  his  environment.  Such  ideas  are 
closely  associated  with  the  motor  powers  that  create  adjust- 
ment, and,  being  essential  to  survival,  they  must  be  in  the 
possession  of  every  individual.  The  series  of  acts  that 
lead  to  the  acquisition  of  an  object  are  pictured  in  con- 
sciousness as  distinctly  as  the  series  of  ideas  that  enable 
an  observer  to  distinguish  one  object  from  another. 

This  sensory  knowledge  is  merely  the  amplification  and 
classification  of  the  differences  perceived  by  the  senses. 
It  is  an  orderly  arrangement  of  the  incoming  stream  of 
ideas  furnished  by  the  objective  world.  A  notable  example 
is  the  classification  of  plants  according  to  the  Linnsean  sys- 
tem. The  number  of  stamens  and  pistils  and  the  form  of 
the  leaves  and  the  roots  are  matters  of  little  importance, 
except  as  marks  to  distinguish  the  different  species  of 
plants.  Every  development  of  the  sensory  powers  making 
the  perceptions  of  men  clearer  and  more  varied,  tends  to 
increase  the  number  of  these  ideas.  Their  range  and  flow 
conforms  to  the  differences  and  peculiarities  which  contact 


THE  THEORY  3 

with  the  external  world  creates.  If  all  knowledge  were 
merely  sensory,  a  parallelism  would  exist  between  men's 
thought  and  the  objects  around  them. 

But  the  struggle  for  existence  does  not  allow  knowledge 
to  develop  in  this  way.  Not  all  facts  and  differences  have 
the  same  significance.  The  motor  reactions  become  asso- 
ciated with  ideas,  not  because  of  their  clearness  or  their 
place  in  a  systematic  classification,  but  because  of  the  ad- 
vantages which  they  give  to  those  who  possess  them.  The 
slow  process  of  adjustment  and  selection  has  created  for 
the  important  ideas  the  proper  motor  reactions.  These 
ideas  are  often  spoken  of  as  though  they  were  innate  or 
inherited.  It  is  not,  however,  the  ideas  that  are  inherited, 
but  the  motor  mechanisms  that  excite  activity  when  these 
ideas  are  present.  The  motor  powers  respond  only  to  the 
stimuli  which  certain  ideas  arouse.  A  man's  activities  are 
thus  determined  by  that  part  of  his  ideas  for  which  motor 
reactions  have  been  provided.  They  reappear  in  each  suc- 
ceeding generation,  and  must  be  studied  in  connection  with 
the  motor  reactions  they  excite.  It  is  not  what  a  man 
sees,  hears,  or  feels  that  makes  him  what  he  is,  but  the 
motor  reactions  which  these  phenomena  excite.  Men  who 
see  and  hear  equally  well  may  differ  widely  in  their  char- 
acters, because  they  react  differently  under  the  same  con- 
ditions. The  Italian  differs  from  the  Englishman,  or  the 
Frenchman  from  the  Russian  because  of  differences,  not  in 
the  sense  perceptions,  but  in  the  activities  which  these  per- 
ceptions provoke. 

For  example,  the  newspapers  of  Europe,  in  describing 
the  Armenian  massacres,  used  substantially  the  same  facts 
and  words,  and  thus  created  the  same  sensory  impressions 
in  all  their  readers.  Yet  the  effect  of  these  despatches  in 
the  different  countries  differed  widely,  because  the  motor 
reactions  created  by  the  same  news  differed  in  the  various 
countries  :  one  nationality  was  indifferent,  another  merely 
grieved,  while  a  third  was  angry  and  wished  to  interfere. 


4  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

The  sensory  phenomenon  lies  in  the  news  ;  the  motor 
phenomenon  lies  in  the  mental  reaction.  It  is  the  latter 
only  that  shows  the  peculiarities  of  the  national  character. 

Differences  in  the  sensory  powers  of  men  show  them- 
selves in  each  nation,  each  community,  and  even  in 
each  family,  but  they  are  only  temporary  alterations  from 
the  normal  standard,  and  have  little  effect  upon  permanent 
conditions.  They  also  tend  to  neutralize  one  another,  and 
are  thus  readily  eliminated.  It  would  be  difficult,  perhaps 
impossible,  to  create  a  new  type  of  sensory  powers,  because 
the  natural  phenomena  of  the  various  parts  of  the  world 
are  so  nearly  the  same  that  they  demand  the  same  sensory 
power  for  their  perception.  There  is,  therefore,  a  common 
type  of  the  sensory  powers  to  which  all  men  regardless  of 
nationality  or  race  tend  to  conform,  and  from  which  any 
deviation  is  so  severely  punished  by  natural  selection  as 
to  prevent  its  perpetuation.  There  is,  however,  no  world 
environment  to  determine  the  motor  reactions  excited  by 
sensory  impressions.  While  sensory  impressions  are  deter- 
mined by  the  bare,  isolated  phenomena  of  the  external 
world,  motor  reactions  are  caused  by  the  requisites  for 
survival  which  the  local  environment  furnishes.  So  long 
as  the  requisites  for  each  locality  and  age  differ,  so  long 
must  there  be  types  of  motor  reactions  suited  to  the 
locality  and  the  age.  Character,  therefore,  must  be  local 
and  national  because  many  types  of  motor  reactions  sur- 
vive in  men.  These  create  its  peculiarities,  and  it  must 
be  studied  through  their  manifestations. 

While  the  motor  reactions  upon  which  character  depends 
are  created  by  the  local  or  national  environment,  it  should 
not  be  inferred  from  this  that  national  character  is  the 
result  of  the  present  national  environment.  Character  is 
formed  by  the  long  series  of  environments  in  which  a  race 
has  lived.  Each  change  to  a  new  environment  brings  out 
new  traits  by  creating  new  motor  adjustments,  but  it  does 
not  of  necessity  destroy  the  earlier  traits.     Many  of  them 


THE   THEORY  5 

abide  and  are  brought  out  more  clearly  by  the  new  con- 
ditions. The  English  character,  for  example,  is  not  the 
result  of  contact  with  the  present  English  environment, 
nor  with  English  economic  conditions.  In  spite  of  the 
long  residence  of  the  race  in  Great  Britain,  perhaps  the 
less  important  of  their  peculiarities  are  due  to  English 
conditions.  Many  of  the  race  characteristics  were  fully 
formed  at  a  much  earlier  time,  and  were  merely  clarified 
or  given  a  different  setting  by  the  new  conditions.  The 
Celtic  elements  of  the  English  population  have  been  on 
the  British  Isles  for  a  longer  time  than  the  Saxons  or 
Normans,  and  yet  they  have  the  normal  English  character 
to  a  less  extent  than  the  latter.  Had  the  first  settlers  of 
England  retained  possession  of  it  until  now,  it  is  not 
probable  that  English  character  would  have  assumed  its 
present  form.  Many  of  the  present  motor  reactions  of 
the  English  people  would  never  have  been  excited  by  any 
of  the  peculiarities  of  the  English  environment.  Their 
characters  would,  therefore,  be  less  pronounced,  and  by  so 
much  would  the  nation  be  inferior  to  what  it  now  is.  To 
have  character  is  to  react  against  the  sense  impressions 
coming  from  the  environment,  and  the  more  rigorously  a 
race  reacts,  the  more  pronounced  will  the  national  charac- 
ter be. 

Environments  differ  in  being  either  local  or  general. 
Although  there  is  no  hard  and  fast  line  between  these 
two,  their  differences  are  sufficiently  marked  to  be  dis- 
tinguished and  described.  In  a  local  environment,  a  race 
being  in  direct  contact  with  the  natural  forces  and  mate- 
rials of  some  definite  locality,  depends  for  success  wholly 
upon  the  exploitation  of  that  locality.  The  food,  clothing, 
shelter,  tools,  and  wealth  are  of  fixed  kinds,  with  little 
variety  ;  the  people,  cut  off  from  contact  with  the  outside 
world,  are  shut  out  of  the  possibilities  and  variety  it 
offers.    The  barriers  causing  this  isolation  may  be  physical, 


6  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

psychical,  or  racial,  but,  whatever  their  nature,  they  are 
strong  enough  to  hem  in  the  race  and  force  it  to  develop 
in  harmony  with  local  conditions. 

Circumscribed  in  this  way,  a  people  have  little  need 
of  increasing  the  number  of  their  sensory  ideas.  The 
few  objects  with  which  their  contact  is  vital  are  so  promi- 
nent and  so  sharply  distinguished  from  one  another  that 
they  cannot  be  confused,  and  an  imperfect  language  will 
describe  them.  A  people  who  live  on  barley,  whose  fuel 
and  timber  come  from  pine  forests,  whose  transportation 
depends  on  cattle,  and  who  fight  with  spears,  have  little 
use  for  fine  sensory  distinctions,  and  still  less  for  the 
analytic  faculties  and  logical  powers.  The  sharp  contests 
for  these  few  objects  will,  however,  develop  their  motor 
powers.  Man  must  struggle  with  man  for  the  few  gifts 
that  nature  offers.  The  more  vigorous  and  active  will 
win.  A  quick  decision  and  its  immediate  execution  are 
more  important  than  a  correct  apprehension  of  the  char- 
acter and  qualities  of  the  objects  toward  which  the  activity 
is  directed.  Here,  instinctive  action  promotes  success. 
The  more  sharply  the  local  environment  is  defined  and 
limited,  the  more  pronounced  will  the  motor  powers  be- 
come. Men  reared  in  such  an  environment  have  an  over- 
flow of  energy  and  activity.  Their  activity  usually  takes 
the  form  of  war  and  conquest,  through  which  the  motor 
powers  are  developed  out  of  proportion  to  the  other  sides 
of  national  character. 

A  general  environment,  on  the  other  hand,  has  in  it  a 
great  variety  of  objects  upon  which  welfare  depends,  and 
a  large  stretch  of  territory  from  which  they  are  derived. 
By  such  imperceptible  degrees  do  these  objects  shade  off 
into  one  another  that  they  can  be  distinguished  only  by 
accurate  analysis.  The  food,  clothing,  and  shelter  come 
from  a  great  variet}7  of  sources,  and  the  materials  of  which 
they  are  made  are  many  times  reconstructed  before  they 
assume  their  final  form.     The  coarse  gifts  of  nature  are 


THE   THEORY  7 

displaced  by  the  finer  products  of  human  art.  The  pro- 
duction of  such  articles  demands  the  widest  contact  with 
the  world's  material  resources,  and  the  most  accurate 
knowledge  of  their  location,  nature,  and  qualities. 

In  such  an  environment  the  sensory  powers  have  free 
scope  for  development.  The  contests  upon  which  sur- 
vival depends  are  between  man  and  nature  rather  than 
between  man  and  man.  Here,  careful  analysis  and  fore- 
thought are  of  more  importance  than  vigorous  action,  for 
the  secrets  of  nature  can  be  exposed  only  by  slow  deliber- 
ate calculation.  Nature  does  not  act  with  that  suddenness 
and  arbitrariness  which  characterize  the  conflicts  of  men. 
Men  master  nature  by  becoming  conscious,  cautious,  and 
analytic.  Their  sensory  powers  thus  become  the  requi- 
sites for  survival,  and  develop  with  as  much  luxuriousness 
and  wastefulness  as  do  the  motor  powers  in  a  local  en- 
vironment. Men  divide  and  classify  the  surrounding 
phenomena  endlessly  until  they  become  hair-splitters  in 
their  distinctions.  Ethics  and  theology  become  so  formal 
and  discursive  as  to  conceal  the  vital  relations  upon  which 
they  depend.  Scientific  facts  are  too  minutely  divided 
and  specialized  for  embodiment  into  race  knowledge.  As 
it  is  impossible  to  have  a  definite  motor  reaction  with  each 
of  these  numerous  distinctions,  such  men  readily  perceive 
the  qualities  in  objects,  and  analyze  them  into  their  ulti- 
mate forms,  but  they  act  with  less  promptness  than  their 
more  primitive  ancestors,  and  see  less  clearly  the  few 
essentials  upon  which  race  survival  depends.  They  are, 
therefore,  more  likely  to  act  inefficiently,  and  to  check  the 
progress  of  the  race  by  their  indecision,  or  by  their  in- 
difference to  the  welfare  of  society. 

The  activities  demanded  by  the  conditions  of  its  envi- 
ronment determine  the  economy  of  each  race.  It  may  be 
so  situated  that  its  energies  are  mainly  directed  towards 
the  avoidance  of  pain  ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  its  environ- 
ment may  direct  its  greatest  effort  toward  the  acquisition 


8  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  pleasure.  In  an  economy  based  on  the  avoidance  of 
enemies  or  pain,  population  is  likely  to  be  sparse,  and  food, 
shelter,  and  other  economic  necessities  relatively  abundant. 
These  conditions  have  prevailed  in  the  early  history  of 
most  races.  There  were  fierce  conflicts  of  race  with  race. 
The  natural  world  was  full  of  unknown  terrors  and 
unforeseen  evils  :  the  fierce  beasts  of  forest  and  jungle 
could  be  overcome  only  by  luck  or  strategy  ;  ignorance 
of  hygiene  and  irregularities  in  the  food  supply  made 
always  imminent  the  horrors  of  famine,  disease,  and  pesti- 
lence. Under  such  conditions  fear  and  the  avoidance  of 
pain  are  the  prominent  motives  for  action.  The  sensory 
ideas  are  so  grouped  that  they  give  early  intimation  of  the 
presence  of  every  possible  foe  or  evil.  A  prompt  visuali- 
zation of  evils  is  of  more  value  than  accurate  knowledge 
of  their  character  and  peculiarities.  Men  must  have  an 
instinctive  fear  of  evil.  The  sensory  and  motor  powers 
must  unite  in  emphasizing  any  quality  or  person  that  may 
be  the  forerunner  of  suffering,  or  the  means  of  avoiding 
it.  Such  activities  and  such  a  type  of  mind  appear  in 
primitive  men,  and  wherever  they  are  dominant  a  pain 
economy  results. 

A  pleasure  economy  demands  the  absence  of  these  con- 
ditions and  evils.  Great  nations  are  formed,  living  to- 
gether in  a  state  of  universal  peace.  Savage  beasts  and 
dangerous  reptiles  are  exterminated,  regular  crops  and 
improved  transportation  remove  the  danger  of  famines, 
increased  medical  knowledge  and  improved  sanitation 
reduce  the  violence  of  contagious  diseases ;  these  and 
other  necessary  changes  unite  to  remove  the  fear  of 
sudden  disasters,  and  to  increase  the  length  and  tran- 
quillity of  life.  A  conscious  calculation  of  utilities  now 
becomes  possible,  and  men  delay  action  until  they  have 
estimated  the  pleasures  and  pains  involved.  The  sensory 
concepts  and  motor  reactions  of  such  men  differ  from 
those  of  men  living  in  a  pain  economy.     Pleasure-getting 


THE   THEORY  9 

is  promoted  by  an  analysis  of  material  objects,  and  the 
rearrangement  of  their  elements  in  more  acceptable  forms. 
Attention  is  thus  diverted  from  the  animate  to  the  in- 
animate world,  where  men  must  learn  of  the  unseen 
chemical  and  physical  forces  which  act  upon  them.  The 
pursuit  of  wealth  becomes  a  leading  occupation,  and  its 
activities  destroy  the  motor  reactions  which  cause  men  to 
fear  nature  or  one  another.  Thus  they  are  left  free  to 
study  those  peculiarities  in  nature  upon  which  their 
welfare  depends,  and  to  develop  those  feelings  and  activi- 
ties binding  men  together  in  large  societies. 

This  gradual  transition  from  a  pain  to  a  pleasure  econ- 
omy emphasizes  the  effects  produced  by  the  transition  from 
local  to  general  environments.  Each  race  begins  its  his- 
tory in  a  local  environment  and  a  pain  economy,  and 
progresses  towards  a  general  environment  and  a  pleasure 
economy.  Both  of  the  former  promote  the  motor  devel- 
opment of  men,  while  both  of  the  latter  aid  his  sensory 
development.  The  sensory  powers  are  so  enlarged  in  the 
final  epochs  that  they  divert  the  attention  and  activities 
of  the  race  from  the  few  essentials  of  existence  to  the  innu- 
merable elements  into  which  the  senses  divide  the  world. 
Such,  in  brief,  is  the  history  of  many  nations,  and  would, 
perhaps,  be  the  history  of  all  of  them  if  each  civilization 
developed  in  a  single  environment.  The  enduring  nations 
are  kept  progressive  by  the  repeated  transition  from  one 
environment  to  another,  in  each  of  which  the  process  of 
development  and  adjustment  is  renewed.  Some  part  of 
the  population,  being  pushed  out  of  its  old  habitation  into 
a  new  one,  develops  its  motor  energies  once  more  in  the 
struggles  which  the  occupation  and  utilization  of  the  new 
locality  make  necessary.  In  the  more  advanced  races 
there  may  not  be  a  change  of  locality  at  each  period,  but 
there  are  at  least  important  modifications  in  the  economic 
environment  exerting  the  same  motor  energies  that  are 
demanded  in  new  localities.     Either  of  these  transitions 


10  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

aids  the  men  with  developed  motor  powers,  and  places 
at  a  disadvantage  those  in  whom  the  sensory  powers  are 
dominant. 

Great  economic  changes,  or  a  migration  to  a  new  envi- 
ronment, mark  the  beginning  of  a  new  epoch  and  the 
rise  of  a  new  type  of  men.  Upon  this  basis  a  new  civili- 
zation develops,  which,  if  its  growth  is  not  checked  or 
diverted  from  a  normal  course  by  some  outside  force,  goes 
through  all  the  stages  of  progress  in  regular  succession. 
The  same  law  is  manifest  in  each  economic  epoch.  It 
may  be  obscured  by  a  few  irregularities,  but  it  shows  itself 
when  these  are  brushed  away. 

When  it  is  said  that  organisms  are  adjusted  to  their 
environment  or  that  their  development  is  due  to  their 
environment,  the  word  "  environment "  means,  not  the  sum 
of  natural  phenomena  which  the  world  now  exhibits,  nor 
that  which  it  exhibited  at  any  one  age,  but  the  grand 
result  of  the  natural  phenomena  of  succeeding  ages. 
Again,  the  word  is  used  in  a  somewhat  narrower  sense, 
and  means  the  few  general  characteristics  of  nature  which 
are  so  universal  as  to  be  present  at  all  times  and  places. 
The  word  is  used  in  this  sense  when  it  is  said  that  the 
environment  dominates  man,  and  determines  his  activities. 
Not  only  the  present  world  exerts  this  influence,  but  the 
natural  phenomena  of  past  ages  also  have  a  part.  A  third 
meaning,  still  narrower,  calls  to  mind  the  definite  group 
of  conditions  that  is  essential  to  the  welfare  of  a  race, 
and  that  determines  the  conditions  of  survival  at  the  pres- 
ent time.  In  this  sense  there  are  many  environments  in 
different  parts  of  the  earth,  and  a  long  series  of  them  in 
the  history  of  the  world. 

The  first  two  uses  of  the  word  do  not  differ  from  the 
way  in  which  the  word  "  nature  "  is  used,  except  that 
nature  is  often  personified  or  at  least  so  unified  as  to 
obliterate  its  parts.     The  word  "  nature"  brings  up  the 


THE   THEORY  11 

idea  of  a  whole,  which  is  usually  conceived  of  as  a  unit. 
The  word  "  environment,"  however,  brings  up  a  series 
of  particulars,  and  thus  harmonizes  with  a  more  inductive 
way  of  regarding  the  universe.  Nor  does  it  imply  any 
teleological  concept  or  design.  In  this  there  is  an  advan- 
tage, but  it  still  lacks  the  definiteness  demanded  by 
science.  It  is  better,  therefore,  to  use  the  words  "  nature  " 
and  "natural  conditions"  to  designate  the  sum  of  objec- 
tive influences  which  have  made  men  and  other  organisms 
what  they  are,  and  to  use  the  word  "  environment "  only 
in  the  sense  of  the  objective  conditions  at  work  at  the 
present  time,  and  to  which  the  present  modifications  in 
society,  and  in  the  characters  of  men,  are  due.  The  more 
general  and  vague  use  of  the  term  may  be  necessary  in 
biology,  but  it  is  a  source  of  confusion  when  applied  to 
history.  The  development  of  those  social  qualities  in 
men  which  have  shaped  human  history  is  recent,  and 
so  peculiar  that  a  crude  application  to  social  progress  of 
the  general  principles  of  animal  evolution  is  the  source 
of  many  errors.  .  The  doctrine  that  men  are  adjusted  to 
their  environment,  and  that  their  characters,  qualities,  and 
activities  are  due  to  it,  is  a  general  truth  hardly  worth 
disputing  so  long  as  the  word  is  used  in  a  vague,  general 
way.  But  those  who  attempt  to  apply  the  theory  of 
evolution  to  history  pervert  this  doctrine  by  using  the 
word  "  environment "  in  a  narrower  sense  —  make  it  mean 
the  national  environment,  or  the  sum  of  the  natural  condi- 
tions which  now  surround  a  given  race  of  men.  It  is  one 
thing  to  say  that  man's  development  is  due  to  natural 
conditions,  that  his  actions  are  subject  to  natural  laws, 
and  that  his  character  was  formed  through  a  gradual 
adjustment  to  external  conditions  ;  but  quite  another 
thing  to  say  that  the  present  man  has  had  his  character 
and  activities  formed  by  present  conditions,  and  that  he 
is  adjusted  to  the  present  conditions  that  environ  him. 
Yet  it  is  this  latter  doctrine  that  is  expressed  or  implied 


12  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

by  many  who  apply  the  current  biologic  theories  to  the 
development  of  man.  This  view  errs  either  in  assuming 
men  to  be  more  mobile  than  they  are,  or  in  assuming  that 
natural  conditions  determining  men's  characters  are  of  so 
general  a  nature  that  they  continue  from  age  to  age  with 
little  change.  Perhaps  there  is  a  mixture  of  these  errors 
in  current  discussions ;  most  of  the  statements  bearing 
on  this  point  are  so  vague  that  they  may  be  interpreted 
either  way. 

I  wish  to  emphasize  an  opposite  concept  concerning 
both  the  character  of  man  and  his  environment.  Men's 
characters  are  enduring,  and  difficult  to  modify.  They 
change  their  environment,  repeatedly,  seldom  living 
under  one  environment  long  enough  for  it  to  exert 
its  full  influence.  Men  in  progressive  nations  are  never 
adjusted  to  their  environment  if  this  word  is  to  be 
used  in  a  definite  way,  and  made  to  mean  the  sum  of 
natural  conditions  which  at  a  given  time  obtain  in  a 
nation.  On  the  contrary,  the  striking  features  of  every 
progressive  nation  are  due  to  the  breach  between  the 
national  character  and  the  present  environment.  Char- 
acter is  formed  by  the  motor  reactions  which  are 
created  by  the  perception  of  certain  sensory  ideas. 
These  motor  reactions  are  the  result  of  a  hereditary 
adjustment.  They  are  slowly  formed,  and  still  more 
slowly  changed.  Many  of  them  were  created  ages  ago 
under  natural  conditions  unlike  those  that  now  exist. 
Once  formed,  they  have  continued  through  a  long  series 
of  environments,  because  the  new  conditions  contained 
nothing  to  interfere  with  their  activity.  They  remain 
unmodified  or  are  modified  only  in  ways  that  make  them 
stand  out  even  more  clearly. 

While  character  has  the  permanence  of  heredity  and 
is  modified  only  by  slowly  working  causes,  the  national 
environment  changes  with  each  age.  The  force  it  exerts 
is  tremendous,  but  not  enduring.     It  is  too  transitory  to 


THE  THEORY  13 

bring  men's  activities  into  harmony  with  its  demands,  for 
it  is  displaced  before  many  motor  readjustments  are 
affected.  Through  these  modifications  it  leaves  its  in- 
fluence on  the  race;  but  only  to  widen  the  breach  that 
will  exist  between  men's  characters  and  the  next  environ- 
ment in  which  they  live.  Character  has  thus  a  persistent, 
forceful  activity  along  channels  that  have  been  fixed  by  he- 
redity. It  seeks  to  realize  certain  tendencies  that  have  been 
wrought  out  by  past  conditions.  Instead  of  a  passive  ac- 
quiescence in  the  conditions  set  by  the  present  environment, 
it  is  persistent  in  its  endeavour  to  modify  them.  It  seeks 
to  master  nature,  and  to  change  the  direction  of  natural 
forces.  Thus  the  conscious  modifications  of  external  con- 
ditions increase  in  number,  and  the  motor  reactions  be- 
come more  pronounced  and  more  difficult  to  change. 

The  forces  generated  by  the  present  environment  are, 
therefore,  not  the  only  forces  that  determine  the  actions 
of  the  men  who  live  in  it ;  past  environments  may  be  said 
still  to  exert  a  force  through  the  modifications  they  have 
made  in  the  national  character.  These  two  forces  are 
always  in  conflict.  The  ideas  holding  over  from  the  past 
give  through  their  motor  reactions  the  tone  to  a  civiliza- 
tion. The  remodelling  influence  comes  from  the  con- 
ditions set  by  the  immediate  environment,  and  through 
them  the  economic  forces  get  their  power.  This  inter- 
play of  the  character  forces  in  men  and  the  economic 
forces  in  their  environment  causes  progress. 

Two  elemental  forces  are  thus  always  at  work,  —  those 
due  to  the  national  character,  and  those  due  to  the  present 
economic  conditions.  If  these  two  elements  harmonize, 
the  race  is  adjusted  to  its  environment,  and  remains 
static.  If  the  two  are  out  of  harmony,  a  period  of 
transition  ensues,  in  which  a  readjustment  takes  place 
between  the  important  objects  in  the  environment  and  the 
inherited  motor  reactions  which  make  up  the  national 
character.     When  this  adjustment  is  imperfect,  the  race 


14  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

ideals  must  be  modified,  or  freed  from  the  particular 
associations  which  earlier  conditions  have  imposed  on 
them. 

When  economic  conditions  are  regarded  in  this  way,  as 
the  causes  that  modify  national  character,  the  economy  of 
the  nation  must  be  made  to  include  every  object  towards 
which  the  motor  energies  are  directed.  It  consists  of  the 
activities  by  which  the  limiting  aggregates  of  the  en- 
vironment are  created,  modified,  or  destroyed.  In  this 
economy  the  food  supply  and  other  national  goods  are 
important,  but  not  the  sole,  elements ;  it  may  have  for  its 
end  the  avoidance  of  pain  and  evils  as  well  as  the  securing 
of  pleasure  and  goods.  The  national  character  may  also 
impose  ideals  whose  connection  with  pleasure  and  pain  is 
indirect  and  diflicult  to  trace,  but  in  any  case  a  fixed 
direction  is  given  to  the  national  activities,  and  thus  an 
economy  of  effort  results. 

Every  marked  alteration  in  these  dominant  aggregates, 
by  changing  the  activities  of  a  nation,  starts  a  series  of 
changes  that  create  an  epoch  in  the  national  thought. 
Each  nation  has  as  many  epochs  in  the  development  of  its 
thought  as  it  has  marked  changes  in  its  environment.  In 
tracing  the  history  of  national  thought,  attention  must 
first  be  directed  towards  the  epochs  in  its  economic  prog- 
ress, for  they  give  the  basis  for  the  changes  of  each 
epoch. 

If  a  nation  remained  in  an  environment  until  all  the 
changes  possible  in  that  environment  were  wrought  out, 
the  history  of  each  epoch  and  the  comparison  of  different 
epochs  would  be  simple.  It  often  happens,  however,  that 
a  new  economic  environment  is  entered  before  the  changes 
of  earlier  epochs  have  been  worked  out.  In  such  cases  two 
sets  of  influences  are  at  work  at  the  same  time,  each  modi- 
fying the  national  thought  in  particular  fields.  Although 
such  conditions  complicate  the  history  of  thought,  they  do 
not  invalidate  its  laws,  nor  change  the  order  in  which  the 


THE   THEORY  15 

different  groups  of  concepts  and  ideals  are  modified. 
Each  epoch  has  all  the  stages  that  the  complete  history  of 
a  nation  would  have  if  it  developed  in  one  environment. 
If  a  nation  passes  through  a  series  of  environments,  it  is 
compelled  to  repeat  these  stages  as  often  as  the  economic 
conditions  change. 

Since  the  enduring  elements  in  national  character  come 
from  the  motor  reactions  inherited  from  past  generations, 
it  is  necessary  to  trace  the  connection  between  these  reac- 
tions and  the  sensory  ideas  that  excite  them.  The  sen- 
sory powers  themselves  must  be  so  modified  by  heredity 
that  they  give  increased  vividness  and  clearness  to  those 
ideas,  and  especially  to  those  persistent  groups  of  ideas, 
which  are  the  starting-points  of  motor  activity.  A 
purely  sensory  development  tends  to  give  an  equal  em- 
phasis to  all  the  ideas  coming  from  the  outer  world. 
Such  ideas  are  clear  and  definite,  but  they  are  not  vivid 
enough  to  influence  the  motor  reactions.  Ideas  are  clear 
when  they  indicate  accurately  the  differences  existing  in 
the  environment  ;  they  become  vivid  only  when  they  em- 
phasize those  elements,  objects,  and  relations  that  are 
requisites  for  survival.  To  effect  this  result  certain 
groups  of  ideas  are  so  blended  and  unified  that  they  seem 
to  be  one.  The  presence  of  any  one  of  these  ideas  starts 
a  fresh  sensory  activity  that  brings  up  all  the  other  ideas 
of  the  group.  Survival  depends  upon  the  visualization  of 
those  phenomena  that  aid  in  the  quick  perception  of 
the  requisites.  Race  ideals,  then,  are  the  visualized  groups 
of  ideas  which  this  peculiar  development  has  created. 
Through  this  visualization  the  sensory  side  of  the  mind  is 
brought  into  harmony  with  its  motor  side,  and  is  made  to 
emphasize  objects  and  relations  that  can  be  made,  through 
motor  reactions,  to  contribute  to  the  welfare  of  the  indi- 
vidual and  of  society.  Heredity  thus  creates  both  the 
ideals  of  a  race,  and  the  motor  reactions  through  which 


16  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

they  may  be  realized.  National  character  depends  not 
merely  on  the  number  of  these  motor  reactions,  but  also 
on  the  vividness  of  the  ideals  towards  which  national 
activities  are  directed. 

In  this  way  each  nation  acquires  a  number  of  race  ideas 
and  ideals,  which  determine  the  activities  of  its  members 
through  the  motor  reactions  accompanying  them.  Every 
one  feels  the  force  of  these  ideals,  and  strives  for  their 
realization ;  each  new  environment  tends  to  clarify  them, 
and  to  unite  them  into  groups.  Thus  the  economic,  the 
aesthetic,  the  moral,  and  the  religious  groups  of  ideas  and 
ideals  become  distinct,  and  capable  of  classification. 

Pure  sensory  ideas  arise  when  the  environment  pre- 
sents the  proper  stimulus  to  create  the  sensations  on  which 
they  depend,  and  they  can  be  indefinitely  increased  in 
number  by  any  one  who  will  shift  his  position  often 
enough  to  come  in  contact  with  all  the  stimuli  contained 
in  the  environment.  Every  one,  through  contact  with  the 
external  world,  must  experience  these  sensations  for  him- 
self. They  come  and  go  with  each  individual,  and  with 
each  generation.  Language  helps  to  keep  them  stable, 
but  it  does  not  free  any  one  from  the  necessity  of  experi- 
encing them  for  himself.  These  simple  ideas  are  the 
material  on  which  heredity  operates  to  form  composite, 
unified  groups  of  ideas,  each  of  which  indicate  some  limit- 
ing aggregate  upon  which  race  welfare  depends.  As  these 
race  or  primal  ideas  have  motor  reactions  connected  with 
them,  they  cannot  be  felt  by  any  one  to  whom  heredity  has 
not  given  the  proper  motor  mechanism.  The  activity  de- 
manded by  each  limiting  aggregate  becomes  instinctive, 
and  thus  creates  organic  modifications,  which  pass  from 
generation  to  generation. 

Each  race  ideal  is  the  means  of  creating  adjustment  to 
some  limiting  aggregate,  and  it  is  acquired  at  a  time  when 
the  race  is  in  such  intimate  contact  with  this  aggregate 
that  it  becomes  a  requisite  for  survival.     Heredity  unifies 


THE    THEORY  17 

this  group  of  conditions  into  a  race  ideal,  and  develops 
peculiar  motor  reactions  which  will  aid  the  race  in  utiliz- 
ing or  in  avoiding  it.  Local  environments  therefore  are 
the  places  most  favourable  to  the  generation  of  race  ideals. 
In  these  a  few  aggregates  of  natural  forces,  of  animals  or 
of  men,  become  so  prominent  that  adjustment  to  them  is 
of  more  importance  than  an  increased  adjustment  to  the 
more  ordinary  objects  in  this  environment.  These  limit- 
ing aggregates  become  the  basis  of  classifications  ;  words 
are  coined  to  designate  them,  and  in  the  end  a  psychic 
concept  is  created,  unifying  them  and  making  them  appear 
as  simple  and  fundamental  as  are  the  sensorial  ideas  stimu- 
lated by  single  sensations.  A  dominant  aggregate  thus 
ceasing  to  be  thought  of  in  connection  with  its  parts  be- 
comes a  peculiar  unit  exciting  motor  reactions.  So  com- 
pletely destroyed  is  the  connection  between  the  whole 
aggregate  and  its  parts  that  a  race  usually  resents  any 
attempt  to  dissolve  its  race  ideals  into  their  elements,  or 
even  to  trace  the  origin  of  its  ideals.  The  more  peculiar 
the  combination,  and  the  more  insignificant  its  elements 
seem  to  a  people,  the  easier  it  is  for  them  to  isolate  the 
whole  from  its  parts,  and  to  make  of  it  a  race  ideal  with 
vigorous  motor  reactions.  For  example,  a  storm  in  a 
desert  is  such  a  peculiar  manifestation,  and  presents  phe- 
nomena so  different  from  what  its  elements  exhibit  on 
other  occasions,  that,  the  elements  being  lost  sight  of,  the 
whole  is  unified  in  thought  and  becomes  a  source  of 
activity. 

Race  ideals  once  created  endure,  even  if  the  race  migrates 
to  a  region  where  their  cause  is  absent  or  is  manifested  in 
some  other  way.  The  motor  reactions  created  by  the 
original  aggregate,  which  are  inherited  by  the  race  in  its 
new  location,  are  associated  with  some  modification  of  this 
aggregate  or  with  some  new  aggregate  of  more  present 
importance.  Vigorous  motor  reactions  can  always  be  put 
to  some  good  use,  and  once  acquired,  they  are  never  lost 


18  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

by  a  progressive  race.  Although  the  race  ideals  that 
excite  them  are  modified  by  the  influence  of  new  environ- 
ments, these  modifications  exert  no  influence  on  the  motor 
reactions  except  to  make  them  more  pronounced. 

National  character  depends,  therefore,  on  the  peculiari- 
ties of  the  locality  in  which  the  race  was  formed.  If  a 
few  limiting  aggregates  were  all-important,  the  motor 
reactions  are  vigorous.  A  migrating  race  will  have  a  more 
marked  national  character  than  a  settled  race.  Passing 
through  more  environments,  the  limiting  aggregates  of 
each  will  leave  their  influence  on  the  national  character  in 
the  motor  reactions  they  create.  In  a  happy  mixture  of 
races,  the  motor  reactions  of  both  races  will  be  inherited 
by  their  descendants.  This  series  of  environments  is,  at 
best,  too  imperfect  for  a  high  civilization.  To  ensure 
continuous  progress,  each  race  must  receive  from  other 
races  ideas  not  developed  by  its  past  conditions.  The 
primary  source  of  this  propagation  of  ideas  is  imitation. 
The  basis  of  race  ideals  is  the  motor  reactions  that 
particular  conditions  have  produced  and  heredity  con- 
tinued. When  a  race  with  these  motor  reactions  comes 
in  contact  with  races  having  other  motor  reactions,  each 
race  imitates  the  useful  actions  of  the  other,  and  thus 
stimulates  the  development  of  those  motor  reactions  which 
its  own  past  conditions  did  not  bring  out.  Migration 
alone  would  hardly  develop  these  motor  reactions,  but 
imitation  creates  the  desired  motive.  To  it  are  due  those 
minor  peculiarities  in  the  national  character  which  are  not 
caused  by  a  dominant  aggregate  in  the  environment. 

The  prominent  race  ideals,  however,  are  due  more  to 
conversion  than  to  imitation.  Conversion  is  best  known 
as  a  religious  phenomenon,  yet  its  causes  are  universal  and 
manifest  themselves  in  every  change  of  ideas  or  opinions. 
Its  explanation  is  to  be  found  in  the  loosening  of  bonds 
between  old  groups  of  associated  ideas,  leaving  certain 
motor  reactions  without  any  exciting  cause.     Race  ideals 


THE  THEORY  19 

are  a  composite,  due  to  the  blending  of  a  group  of  sim- 
ple ideas  with  certain  motor  reactions,  by  means  of  which 
a  quick  response  is  obtained  to  any  indication  of  the  pres- 
ence of  an  important  limiting  aggregate  necessary  for  wel- 
fare. A  change  of  environments,  however,  may  put  a  race 
in  conditions  where  this  limiting  aggregate  either  is  ab- 
sent or  shows  itself  in  such  different  forms  that  its  pres- 
ence is  not  indicated  by  the  same  group  of  sensory 
impressions.  In  such  cases  we  have  an  inherited  motor 
mechanism  without  any  means  of  exciting  it.  There  is 
thus  inherited  a  possibility  of  activity  that  remains  dor- 
mant until  some  means  of  exciting  it  is  acquired.  Con- 
version is  the  act  of  connecting  this  old  motor  mechanism 
with  some  new  group  of  sensory  ideas.  This  new  group 
may  indicate  a  new  requisite,  or  it  may  be  merely  some 
new  form  in  which  an  old  limiting  aggregate  manifests 
itself.  In  either  case  a  dormant  motor  mechanism  be- 
comes again  active,  and  modifies  not  only  the  thoughts 
and  ideas  of  the  convert,  but  also  his  activities.  Conver- 
sion is  thus  a  phenomenon  of  heredity  which  only  those 
with  a  developed  mental  mechanism  can  experience.  Weak 
minds  may  learn  through  imitation,  but  they  never  mani- 
fest those  sudden  changes  in  character  which  indicate  a 
conversion. 

The  possibility  of  conversion  thus  depends  on  the  fact 
that  the  groups  of  sensory  ideas  creating  race  ideas  are 
less  permanent  than  the  motor  reactions  which  they  excite. 
Sensorial  ideas,  corresponding  to  the  distinctions  in  the 
immediate  environment,  quickly  disappear,  or  lose  their 
former  associations  when  the  aggregates  in  the  environ- 
ment change  their  form.  The  motor  reactions  are  organic, 
and  would  disappear,  if  at  all,  only  long  after  the  exciting 
causes  were  removed.  They  are,  therefore,  capable  of 
being  aroused  by  new  stimuli,  and  when  revived  are  capa- 
ble of  performing  services  different  from  those  to  which 
they  owe  their  origin. 


20  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

The  loss  of  the  old  ideas,  with  which  these  dormant 
motor  powers  were  associated,  may  be  due  to  a  variety  of 
causes.  A  change  of  environments  may  remove  or  modify 
some  important  aggregate.  The  activities  may  also  be 
restricted  or  modified  by  the  appearance  of  some  new 
limiting  requisite.  A  new  enemy,  for  example,  may  be  so 
dangerous  that  every  energy  must  be  exerted  to  resist  it. 
A  period  of  war  is  apt  to  produce  similar  effects  on  na- 
tional life.  In  such  cases  old  activities  are  interrupted 
and  new  qualities  are  developed,  until  the  old  race  quali- 
ties seem  to  be  extinguished  by  the  new  growth.  A  period 
of  peace,  however,  will  show  that  even  if  old  ideas  have 
died  out,  the  motor  reactions  they  provoked  are  still 
capable  of  being  excited  by  new  ideas.  As  a  return  to 
peace  favours  the  spread  of  new  ideas,  at  such  a  period, 
conversion  is  likely  to  be  a  widespread  and  striking  phe- 
nomenon. 

The  orderly  development  and  differentiation  of  society, 
by  imposing  a  new  set  of  restrictions  upon  individuals  fre- 
quently cause  motor  powers  to  become  dormant.  The  dif- 
ferentiation of  occupations  confines  within  narrower  scope 
the  activities  of  individuals.  A  change  in  the  form  of  gov- 
ernment, particularly  the  rise  of  a  despotic  government, 
acts  in  the  same  way.  It  has  often  been  pointed  out  how 
frequently  the  growth  of  art  has  been  coincident  with  the 
rise  of  a  despotism.  A  change  in  the  religion  of  a  people, 
in  their  moral  ideas,  or  any  modification  in  their  consump- 
tion of  goods,  produces  similar  results.  When  the  motor 
powers  of  a  people  are  limited  in  one  way,  they  find  new 
avenues  for  exercising  them.  Converts  are  noted  for  the 
zeal  with  which  they  espouse  the  new  cause.  They  also 
hold  the  new  ideas  in  a  more  abstract  form  than  they 
would  if  they  had  acquired  them  directly  through  contact 
with  the  original  environment  A  dormant  motor  power 
is  also  apt  to  be  too  vigorous  to  fit  the  new  ideas  that 
excite  it,  and  thereby  leads  the  convert  to  exaggerate  their 


THE  THEORY  21 

importance,  and  to  distort  his  life  in  order  to  realize  them. 
Race  ideals  thus  become  more  vivid  and  abstract  the 
farther  they  are  removed  from  the  conditions  that  created 
them.  In  their  primal  home  they  are  bound  up  with  and 
coloured  by  the  particular  circumstances  under  which  they 
arose,  and,  by  these  limitations,  are  checked  in  their 
growth.  In  environments  without  these  limitations,  and 
coupled  with  motor  reactions  which  they  did  not  originate, 
they  have  free  scope  for  growth. 

The  French  Revolution  furnishes  an  appropriate  illustra- 
tion. Most  of  the  ideas  that  created  it  were  of  English 
origin,  but  the  particular  conditions  surrounding  their  ori- 
gin kept  them  within  proper  bounds  in  England.  France, 
however,  lacked  these  limitations,  and  in  addition  the 
activities  of  the  French  had  been  checked  in  many  im- 
portant respects  by  the  despotism  under  which  they  lived. 
Powerful  motor  reactions  were  thus  rendered  dormant, 
and  to  these  the  new  ideas  became  attached.  Acquiring 
in  this  way  a  greater  clearness,  they  prompted  a  more 
vigorous  activity  than  they  had  done  in  England,  and  so 
caused  a  transformation  of  national  ideas  and  character 
that  no  environment,  however  exaggerated  its  peculiari- 
ties, could  have  produced.  The  propagation  of  ideas  by 
conversion  is  thus  an  essential  element  in  the  acquisition 
of  clear  race  ideals.  Without  it  many  of  the  marked  char- 
acteristics of  modern  nations  would  be  inexplicable. 

The  public  decisions  and  even  the  form  of  government 
in  a  mixed  society  may  be  unstable,  and  its  history  show 
an  apparent  fickleness  in  the  national  character,  and  yet 
the  social  groups  may  persist,  and  manifest  the  same  pecu- 
liarities. Changes  too  slight  and  too  temporary  to  affect 
the  character  of  any  group  may  alter  the  relations  of  the 
groups  to  one  another,  and  thus  disturb  the  working  of 
public  institutions  without  altering  the  character  of  indi- 
viduals.    The  French  character,  for  example,  has  been 


22  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

but  little  modified  during  the  century.  The  fickleness  of 
the  popular  will  has  been  the  result  of  peculiar  conditions, 
which  have  given  now  to  this,  now  to  that,  class  a  control 
of  national  affairs.  In  government  the  dominant  class 
makes  the  history,  and  whenever  a  new  class  obtains 
control  a  break  in  its  continuity  occurs.  The  displaced 
class  persists,  however,  and  retains  those  personal  qualities 
which  it  has  inherited  from  its  ancestors.  Every  age  has 
a  variety  of  such  types,  which  are  easily  discernible,  and  are 
often  described.  Many  of  them,  however,  being  merely 
varieties  of  certain  more  fundamental  types  that  are  found 
in  every  age  and  nation,  are  of  too  little  importance  to 
gain  a  place  in  a  history  of  national  thought. 

The  popular  classifications  of  society  are  defective,  be- 
cause they  group  men,  not  according  to  their  psychic  traits, 
but  according  to  their  positions  in  society,  their  wealth, 
and  their  party  affiliations.  When  we  speak  of  the  upper, 
middle,  and  lower  classes  we  judge  men  rather  by  their 
success  than  by  their  psychic  peculiarities.  A  group  of 
miners  looking  for  gold  have  almost  identical  psychic 
qualities.  A  few  only  will  find  rich  mines,  and  these  will 
form  a  new  upper  class  whose  social  position  will  differ 
from  that  of  the  unsuccessful.  When  the  distinction  is 
drawn  between  labourers  and  capitalists,  their  social  posi- 
tions differ  far  more  widely  than  do  their  psychic  traits. 
An  aristocracy,  having  long  had  wealth,  is  still  more 
widely  separated  from  the  common  people,  and  yet  the 
traits  of  the  former  are  not  different  in  kind  from  those 
of  the  latter.  So,  too,  the  difference  between  liberal  and 
conservative  is  explained  by  causes  external  to  the  indi- 
viduals and  not  by  their  mental  characteristics.  No  class 
is  more  readily  distinguished  than  the  clergy,  and  yet  its 
members  are  usually  drawn  from  the  common  people,  and 
have  the  same  inherited  traits.  Their  marked  peculiari- 
ties are  due  to  their  training  and  education.  These  dis- 
tinctions and  differences  are  at  best  short-lived.     Even 


THE   THEORY  23 

an  aristocracy  breaks  down  unless  its  membership  is  re- 
cruited from  the  classes  below  it. 

A  complete  classification  of  society  will  be  possible  only 
when  social  science  nears  its  completion.  In  the  mean- 
time it  is  better  to  study  particular  societies  and  make 
classifications  suited  to  their  present  conditions.  In  eco- 
nomics, for  example,  the  division  of  producers  into  land- 
lords, capitalists,  and  labourers  was  the  result  of  the  peculiar 
condition  of  English  industry  during  the  last  century.  It 
has  a  basis  no  more  enduring  than  the  society  from  which 
it  was  derived.  The  economic  conditions  of  other  nations, 
however,  have  so  nearly  resembled  the  English  that  this 
division  has  also  a  value  for  them.  Yet  at  best  it  applies 
only  to  modern  societies,  the  outcome  of  ages  of  past 
development.  The  same  method  will,  I  believe,  prove 
productive  of  results  in  social  psychology.  The  enduring 
types  in  the  English  nation  are  not  primitive.  Some  of 
them  at  least  are  quite  modern,  and  all  of  them  have 
antecedents  that  can  be  readily  traced.  The  last  two 
hundred  years  is  merely  a  moment  in  history,  and  yet 
for  us  it  is  of  vital  importance,  for  its  divisions  and  pecu- 
liarities determine  our  present  society  and  its  immediate 
future. 

In  most  nations,  and  especially  in  those  of  primitive 
times,  the  sources  of  food  are  limited  to  particular  locali- 
ties. Immense  tracts  are  either  useless  or  so  difficult  to 
subdue  that  settlements  must  be  made  in  a  few  favoured 
regions.  An  oasis  brings  up  too  clearly  the  idea  of  a  desert 
to  represent  fully  such  localities,  yet  the  concept  is  helpful 
in  describing  the  economic  conditions  of  any  partially 
developed  country  inhabited  by  people  with  limited  re- 
sources. In  such  regions  the  tendency  to  imitate  develops 
a  type  of  men  strongly  attached  to  their  birthplace.  They 
hold  to  what  they  have,  and  will  not  trust  themselves  to 
the  general  economic  conditions  which  would  be  involved 


24  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

in  a  migration.  They  know  little  of  the  outside  world, 
and  follow  the  customs  and  traditions  of  their  fathers 
rather  than  risk  a  worse  fate  in  the  unknown  world. 
These  traits  are  further  modified  and  developed  if  their 
country  is  subject  to  invasion  and  conquest  by  foreign 
foes.  The  outside  world,  being  associated  with  the  terrors 
that  fierce  enemies  excite,  seems  still  more  dreary  and 
undesirable.  The  inclination  to  accept  any  conditions 
that  give  them  immunity  from  outside  disturbance  is  thus 
strengthened.  They  submit  to  taxation  and  oppression, 
become  attached  to  their  conquerors,  and  accept  the  laws 
and  religion  imposed  upon  them.  When  conquered  nations 
become  a  class  in  a  mixed  society,  they  feel  helpless  in 
the  presence  of  aggressive  foes,  and  develop  a  disposition 
to  accept  as  leaders  persons  outside  of  their  own  class. 
They  admire  that  decision  and  aggressiveness  which  they 
lack,  and  look  for  redress  of  wrongs  to  persons  above  and 
outside  of  themselves. 

In  this  way  a  species  of  hero-worship  is  developed. 
The  Csesars,  Napoleons,  and  Cromwells  find  their  faithful 
followers  among  this  class,  whose  great  admiration  of 
power  shows  itself  not  only  in  social  and  political  life 
but  also  in  religion.  Their  primary  instincts  make  them 
power  worshippers  ;  their  gods,  like  their  heroes,  must 
manifest  great  energy  and  deliver  them  from  all  those 
evils  before  which  they  are  helpless. 

It  is  easy  to  describe  this  class,  but  it  is  hard  to  find  a 
name  that  will  fitly  apply  to  it.  Its  members  have  the 
same  lack  of  completeness  that  vines  have,  which  need 
some  sturdy  tree  to  twine  about,  in  order  to  rise  into  the 
sunshine.  The  name  dingers  therefore  may  be  appro- 
priate, because  of  the  characteristics  which  make  them 
depend  on  others  for  support  and  leadership. 

A  peculiarity  of  this  class  is  the  crude  way  in  which 
they  conceive  of  pleasures.  Those  whose  first  thought 
is  to  cling  to  what  they  have,  regardless  of  consequences, 


THE   THEORY  25 

have  little  inclination  to  sum  up  their  pleasures,  or  to 
compare  their  pleasures  with  their  pains.  The  philosophy 
of  content  or  of  misery  is  not  utilitarian.  In  either  case 
all  outside  considerations  are  excluded.  Such  persons 
may  at  times  have  a  surplus  of  pain,  and  at  others  a 
surplus  of  pleasure,  but  they  hold  too  tenaciously  to 
local  conditions  to  calculate  about  any  new  outcome  of 
their  lives.  Bad  economic  conditions,  or  the  oppression 
of  rulers,  may  deprive  them  of  all  but  a  mere  tenacity  to 
life.  Doubtless,  occasional  periods  of  relief,  bringing 
intense  satisfaction,  create  the  basis  of  long  periods  of 
hope  ;  yet,  as  a  whole,  a  disposition  to  calculate  would 
make  their  present  lot  seem  undesirable. 

When  the  local  conditions  improve  so  that  the  passions 
can  be  gratified,  the  attention  of  men  is  directed  towards 
a  few  dominant  pleasures,  and  these  are  indulged  in  until 
their  utility  is  completely  exhausted.  Activities  that  in- 
crease the  supply  of  goods  upon  which  these  gratifications 
depend  are  encouraged,  and  thus  mental  traits  are  de- 
veloped that  make  persons  of  this  class  aggressive  and 
independent.  They  break  away  from  local  conditions, 
because  these  afford  but  a  partial  gratification  of  their 
appetites  and  passions.  They  become  adventurers  and 
warriors,  for  thus  they  most  easily  gratify  their  intense 
desires  for  particular  goods  and  pleasures.  It  is  only  in 
periods  of  national  decay,  when  wealth  and  power  are 
already  acquired,  that  individuals  indulge  indiscriminately 
in  passions  and  appetites.  The  typical  sensualist  develops 
in  restricted  local  conditions  where  the  opportunities  for 
excess  are  limited.  Indulgence  along  certain  lines  is  pos- 
sible only  when  accompanied  by  a  strict  discipline  in  other 
matters.  Vigour  and  aggression  are  thus  necessary  traits 
of  a  sensualist ;  they  must  develop  and  assert  themselves 
in  order  to  create  the  conditions  making  continuous  grati- 
fication possible.      These  laudable  traits  create  the  pro- 


26  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

gressive  movements  for  which  the  class  is  noted,  and  are 
lost  only  when  a  retrogression  sets  in. 

Sensualists,  therefore,  show  characteristics  opposite  to 
those  of  the  dingers.  The  sensualists  break  away  from 
local  conditions,  seek  better  regions,  and  become  con- 
querors and  rulers.  Strong  passions  drive  them  from 
their  native  locality,  where  the  sources  of  gratification  are 
few,  and  can  be  obtained  only  by  the  greatest  exertion,  or 
by  a  fierce  struggle.  Mountain  regions,  arid  plains  or 
deserts,  are  the  places  where  such  races  arise.  They 
move  thence  to  the  fertile  valleys  where  the  surplus  is 
great,  and  the  means  of  gratification  are  many.  Here 
they  come  in  contact  with  the  class  of  dingers  with  which 
these  regions  abound,  and  thus  create  a  complex  society 
in  which  they  are  the  rulers,  and  the  dingers  the  subjects. 
As  they  are  not  workers  but  exploiters,  they  take  from 
the  region  and  from  their  subjects  all  the  surplus  pro- 
duced, often  by  their  short-sightedness  ruining  both  these 
sources  of  revenue.  The  sensualists  are  as  naturally 
tribute-takers  as  the  dingers  are  tribute-givers.  The  two 
classes  thus  supplement  each  other,  and  it  is  not  possible 
for  the  one  class  to  develop  without  the  other. 

In  the  ancient  world  we  find  repeated  illustrations  of 
the  rise  of  new  nations  of  sensualists,  under  restricted 
conditions  where  discipline  and  energy  are  demanded. 
When  these  qualities  are  acquired,  they  break  over  the 
narrow  boundaries  of  their  birthplace,  migrate,  and  con- 
quer the  fertile  regions  and  their  dependent  population. 
A  brief  period  of  civilization  follows,  in  which  leisure 
and  culture  are  obtained  through  the  tribute  they  exact 
from  their  subjects.  The  final  episode  is  one  of  decay  and 
degeneration,  at  the  end  of  which  the  conquerors  are  them- 
selves conquered  by  some  new  race  coming  from  regions 
fitted  to  generate  warriors  and  adventurers.  Thus  ancient 
history  repeated  itself  without  much  net  gain. 

In  modern  times,  where  social  conditions  are  more  stable, 


THE  THEORY  27 

the  sensualists  have  not  been  distinct  races,  but  a  class 
growing  larger  or  smaller  as  conditions  have  been  favour- 
able or  not.  They  are  risk-takers  and  adventurers.  In 
the  struggles  incident  to  the  settlement  of  America,  in  the 
opening  up  of  the  Eastern  trade,  and  in  the  conquest  of 
India,  a  class  of  adventurers  found  opportunity  to  indulge 
to  the  utmost  their  sensual  propensities.  In  all  periods 
of  social  struggle,  or  of  great  economic  changes,  they 
become  leaders  in  movements  that  involve  risk.  When 
the  great  prizes  are  in  the  industrial  world,  they  become 
the  organizers  of  industries,  and  if  successful,  great 
capitalists.  In  all  these  spheres  they  show  the  ten- 
dencies for  which  their  class  is  noted.  They  are  born 
adventurers,  natural  rulers,  and  tribute-takers.  A  single 
motive  may  suffice  to  drive  them  on  to  success  or  failure. 
They  have  few  pleasures,  but  these  they  seek  to  gratify 
to  the  utmost.  Members  of  this  class  do  not  always  seek 
low  forms  of  gratification.  It  may  be  merely  a  love  of 
power  that  excites  their  ambition,  or  it  may  be  the  gratifi- 
cation of  some  single  noble  aim.  But  they  are  ever  ready 
to  risk,  to  struggle,  and  to  crush;  and  must,  therefore, 
be  put  in  the  same  class  with  persons  whose  sources  of 
gratification  are  sensual  in  the  narrower  sense. 

The  two  classes  I  have  described  are  prominent  in  the 
early  struggles  of  all  nations.  A  third  class  appears  only 
in  the  more  advanced  nations.  These  new  men  were 
possibly  a  differentiation  from  the  sensualists,  but  in  mod- 
ern nations  they  show  such  opposing  traits  that  they  must 
be  put  in  a  class  by  themselves.  I  shall  call  them  stal- 
warts from  their  love  of  doctrines,  dogmas,  and  creeds, 
and  from  their  inclination  to  subordinate  policy  to  prin- 
ciple. In  opposition  to  the  dingers  they  are  utilitarians 
in  the  sense  that  they  measure  and  calculate.  They  can 
sum  up  pleasures  and  pains  as  well  as  the  sensualists,  and 
have  as  keen  an  appreciation  of  their  import.     A  sensual- 


28  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

ist  exploits  his  few  pleasures  to  the  utmost :  he  drains  and 
gorges  until  no  further  stimulation  is  possible.  A  stalwart 
draws  arbitrary  lines  beyond  which  he  never  goes.  He  is 
so  afraid  of  indulgence  that  he  tends  to  become  ascetic. 
He  is  constantly  proscribing  pleasures  simply  because  in 
some  of  their  forms  they  may  become  evils.  He  is  a  lover 
of  principles,  for  by  their  means  he  can  set  exact  limita- 
tions to  his  conduct,  and  mark  out  lines  that  he  must 
never  cross.  He  has  a  group  of  ideals  and  Utopias  that 
he  seeks  to  realize,  and  a  number  of  cardinal  evils  that 
must  be  avoided  at  any  cost. 

In  religion  the  stalwarts  make  a  fetich  of  their  creeds 
and  dogmas.  They  follow  the  letter  of  the  law,  interpret 
the  Bible  literally,  and  draw  sharp  lines  between  what  is 
orthodox  and  what  is  not.  Their  morals  consist  of  a  long 
list  of  "Thou  shalt  nots."  In  politics  they  are  demo- 
cratic and  Utopian.  They  have  vivid  ideals  of  equality  and 
fraternity,  which  they  are  apt  to  push  to  the  disadvantage 
of  practical  measures.  In  industry  they  are  frugalists 
rather  than  capitalists.  By  this  I  mean  that  they  love 
frugality  for  the  type  of  activity  or  the  form  of  asceticism 
it  permits,  rather  than  for  the  leisure,  comforts,  and  luxu- 
ries that  flow  from  it.  A  vivid  concept  of  the  future 
makes  them  value  the  tools,  implements,  and  lands  that 
augment  their  permanent  welfare ;  but  their  dread  of  vice 
and  indulgence  keeps  them  from  transforming  the  capital 
goods  that  contribute  to  this  end  into  a  capital  fund  that 
might  support  them.  The  frugal  have  a  keen  apprecia- 
tion of  the  visible  concrete  things  that  increase  their 
industrial  efficiency,  but  they  lack  that  adventurous 
spirit  which  converts  their  more  pushing  neighbours  into 
capitalists. 

Stalwarts  are  always  impressed  by  ideals  that  are  clear 
and  simple,  by  principles  that  are  bold  and  definite,  by 
creeds  that  are  rigid  and  exact,  and  by  platforms  that  are 
plain  and  unmistakable.     They  are  apt  to  be  carried  away 


THE  THEORY  29 

by  sounding  phrases  that  seem  to  embody  principles,  and 
are  easily  induced  to  enter  upon  rash  schemes  which  offer 
to  realize  some  of  their  ideals.  They  are  missionaries  for 
the  cause  they  believe  in,  and  expect  to  live  up  to  all  their 
doctrines,  beliefs,  and  ideals.  There  is,  therefore,  a  natural 
gulf  between  them  and  the  other  social  classes.  A  stalwart 
will  convert  if  he  can,  but  if  he  cannot  he  is  willing  to 
crush.  He  dislikes  people  who  differ  from  himself  and 
feels  justified  in  restricting  their  liberties,  or  even  in  driv- 
ing them  out  of  society.  Unlike  the  dingers,  the  stalwarts 
maintain  a  sturdy  independence.  They  are  not  lovers  of 
power,  and  depend  for  success  upon  individual  or  coopera- 
tive activities  more  than  upon  heroes,  forces,  or  leaders  out- 
side of  their  class.  They  dislike  middlemen  of  every  sort, 
whether  they  be  in  trade,  politics,  or  religion.  They  hold 
strictly  to  the  Bible,  the  constitution  of  the  state,  and 
the  moral  laws,  but  interpret  these  for  themselves,  and 
read  into  them  their  own  principles  and  ideals. 

The  first  type  of  stalwarts  was  found  in  the  early  ascet- 
ics. But  their  violent  discipline  was  destructive.  A  type 
cannot  be  enduring  unless  it  promotes  activities  and  habits 
that  continue  it.  A  pure  religious  stalwartism  does  not 
do  this,  for  the  tendency  to  celibacy  diminishes  numbers. 
This  class  appears  again  when  new  conditions  favour  its 
rise,  but  die  out  as  readily  when  the  religious  enthusiasm 
abates.  An  enduring  class  of  stalwarts  can  grow  up  only 
on  the  basis  of  frugalism.  It  creates  an  economic  superi- 
ority and  inculcates  a  discipline  and  mode  of  thought 
favourable  to  survival.  The  Puritans  were  of  this  class, 
although  in  their  case  the  religious  element  was  too  strong 
for  their  permanent  success.  The  Presbyterians  and  the 
Quakers  furnished  a  more  happy  combination  of  frugalism 
and  asceticism,  and  in  the  following  century  the  Method- 
ists created  an  even  better  blending  of  practical  prudence 
and  religious  enthusiasm. 

In  the  eighteenth  century,  stalwartism  became  a  politi- 


30  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

cal  force  through  the  democratic  ideals  which  developed 
in  harmony  with  frugal  ideas.  Somewhat  later  the  same 
class  became  nationalists,  and  through  the  force  of  these 
two  groups  of  concepts  the  aspirations  and  ideals  of  the 
present  political  world  were  formed.  Thus,  in  various 
ways,  stalwartism  has  developed,  always  keeping  in  touch 
with  the  frugalism  from  which  it  springs.  The  blending 
of  these  various  elements  is  not  complete,  yet  it  is  plain 
that  they  are  in  harmony,  and  that  the  stalwarts  will 
endure  as  long  as  frugalism  is  advantageous. 

The  three  types  of  men  thus  far  described  are  the  result 
of  the  moulding  influence  of  the  environment.  They 
reveal  three  modes  of  survival,  made  possible  by  different 
economic  conditions.  Men  in  direct  contact  with  nature 
have  a  few  leading  traits  that  are  easily  recognized,  and 
the  motor  element  being  dominant,  definite  motor  reac- 
tions keep  them  in  touch  with  the  requisites  for  survival. 
In  advanced  societies,  where  wealth  and  leisure  abound, 
a  fourth  type  of  men  arises,  in  whom  the  sensory  powers 
are  more  developed  than  would  be  possible  in  a  life  in 
direct  contact  with  nature.  In  their  case  ideas  coming 
from  the  outer  world  do  not  start  reactions  that  create 
adjustment.  The  possession  of  leisure  and  wealth  makes 
an  immediate  response  to  the  demands  of  nature  less 
essential.  They  can,  therefore,  sift  and  analyze  the  ideas 
they  receive,  and  study  their  connection  and  relations. 
They  are  inclined  to  separate  objects  into  their  elements, 
and  to  emphasize  the  differences  they  discover:  the  world 
is  not  looked  upon  as  a  group  of  aggregates,  each  of  which 
is  a  requisite  for  survival,  demanding  some  instinctive 
action  to  secure  or  to  avoid  it,  but  as  a  mass  of  elements 
capable  of  indefinite  combinations,  each  of  which  may  be- 
come an  increment  of  welfare. 

The  ideas  of  such  men  are  clear  and  definite.  They 
are  acute  in  perception,  vigorous  in  thought,  and  strong 


THE   THEORY  31 

in  reasoning  ;  but  they  are  weak  in  activity,  and  seldom 
carry  out  a  policy  or  plan  with  the  vigour  necessary  to 
success.  Such  men,  being  of  an  analytical  temperament, 
give  an  equal  emphasis  to  all  their  ideas.  It  is,  therefore, 
more  difficult  to  determine  what  ideas  will  influence  them 
under  particular  circumstances,  or  to  foretell  what  line  of 
conduct  they  will  take.  I  do  not  mean  that  the  mental 
machinery  of  this  class  runs  less  regularly  than  that  of 
the  other  classes,  but  that  they  lack  that  correspondence 
between  the  external  movements  and  the  internal  ideas 
which  the  other  classes  manifest.  Where  many  ideas 
have  about  the  same  strength,  each  in  turn  may  become 
dominant,  and  thus  prevent  the  steadfast  pursuit  of  single 
aims.  This  peculiarity  reduces  the  efficiency  of  group 
activity,  and  makes  it  impossible  to  predict  what  a  group 
of  such  men  will  do.  They  tend  to  thwart  each  other, 
and  thus  to  balk  the  plans  in  which  they  are  interested. 
They  are  better  critics  than  actors,  and  exert  more  influ- 
ence by  modifying  the  actions  of  other  persons  than  by 
their  own  undertakings. 

It  is  hard  to  find  a  name  for  this  class.  They  are  rec- 
ognized more  readily  in  individual  cases,  in  special  epochs 
of  transition,  or  as  iconoclasts,  than  as  an  enduring  class 
with  given  tendencies.  I  shall  call  them  mugwumps,  a 
name  they  have  acquired  in  American  politics  because  of 
the  differences  between  them  and  the  dominant  elements 
in  the  republican  party. 

This  same  class  has,  however,  long  been  a  factor  in 
English  thought,  and  was  the  dominant  element  in  eigh- 
teenth-century rationalism.  Its  members  are  cosmopolitan 
in  their  sympathies ;  advocates  of  compromise  and  policy 
in  politics ;  sceptical  in  thought ;  and  agnostic  in  belief. 
They  dislike  ideals,  creeds,  and  Utopias,  and  are  ever 
ready  to  expose  the  shams  and  cant  in  which  other  peo- 
ple disguise  their  sentiments.  Naturally  recruits  to  this 
class  come  from  those  whose  vocations  free  them  from 


32  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

that  bitter  struggle  with  external  conditions  to  which 
ordinary  men  are  subject.  They  come  mainly  from  the 
salaried  class,  and  from  those  who  have  fixed  incomes. 
The  conditions  of  professional  life  also  tend  to  create  an 
attitude  favourable  to  mugwump  concepts.  As  a  body, 
they  exert  an  influence  out  of  proportion  to  their  num- 
bers, and  often  paralyze  a  strong  majority  .by  their  scath- 
ing criticism  and  ruthless  dissection  of  popular  idols. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  there  are  four  enduring  types 
of  men,  each  of  which  has  certain  traits  by  which  it  can 
be  easily  recognized.  In  their  evolution  the  members  of 
each  class  pass  through  certain  stages  with  sufficient  regu- 
larity to  enable  observers  to  recognize  not  only  the  type, 
but  also  the  stage  of  development  of  the  individual  or 
class.  These  variations  are  most  easily  seen  in  nations  that 
suddenly  change  their  environment  and  burst  forth  into  a 
new  civilization.  In  the  ancient  world  there  are  numerous 
examples  of  the  rise,  progress,  and  fall  of  nations,  in  each 
of  which  the  same  succession  of  stages  repeated  itself. 
From  them  the  cycle,  or  curve,  of  the  sensualists  can  be 
easily  obtained.  The  stalwarts  are  a  modern  type,  and 
their  curve  is  most  clearly  seen  in  English  and  in  Ameri- 
can life.  The  curve  of  the  dingers  is  less  apparent  be- 
cause in  modern  nations  they  are  a  static  type,  who  survive 
through  inherited  imitations.  To  study  their  origin  and 
development  demands  investigation  into  types  of  civiliza- 
tions too  early  to  be  of  much  present  importance.  Their 
characteristics  are  plain  but  unchanging,  and  hence  capa- 
ble of  description,  but  not  of  orderly  arrangement.  The 
mugwumps  have  no  class  curve.  Their  peculiarities  are 
too  individual  to  make  the  curve  of  any  number  identical. 
If  the  class  should  grow  in  size  and  come  more  fully  under 
the  influence  of  environmental  causes,  it  would  doubtless 
become  more  compact,  and  its  curve  of  progress  would  be 
more  discernible. 


THE  THEORY 


33 


I  shall,  therefore,  take  my  illustrations  of  class  curves 
from  those  formed  among  the  sensualists  and  stalwarts. 
Here  the  data  are  so  abundant  that  a  number  of  distinct 
curves  can  be  constructed.  They  follow  the  same  general 
plan,  but  are  modified  by  the  economic  conditions  under 
which  the  class  develops.  These  conditions  create  a  rigid 
discipline,  by  the  aid  of  which  definite  motor  reactions  are 
acquired.  From  this  starting-point  the  curve  of  the  class 
begins,  and  its  direction  depends  upon  the  peculiarities  of 
the  motor  reactions,  and  the  length  of  time  that  the  class 
continues  in  the  new  environment.  When  the  motor  re- 
actions are  lost,  a  period  of  degeneration  sets  in,  and  the 
class  is  absorbed  in  the  mass  of  characterless  individuals 
of  which  mixed  societies  are  composed.  The  modern  types 
are  more  persistent,  because  nations  are  now  more  endur- 
ing. Instead  of  whole  nations  rising  together  and  going 
through  a  common  curve  in  unison,  each  class  continues 
by  receiving  a  series  of  individual  recruits.  I  shall  ex- 
press these  curves  in  words,  and  shall  then  try  to  explain 
the  meaning  of  each  one  in  any  case  of  doubt. 


SENSUALISTS 

1 

2 

3 

Warrior 

Ritualist 

Workman 

Adventurer 

Ascetic 

Exploiter 

Knight 

Dogmatist 

Capitalist 

Golden-age  Moralist 

Zealot 

Gentleman 

Aristocrat 

Reactionnaire 
STALWARTS 

Conservative 

4 

5 

6 

Workman 

Workman 

Artist 

Abstainer 

Frugalist 

Constrainer 

Frugalist 

Democrat 

Co-worker 

Calvinist 

Humanitarian 

Methodist 

Liberal 

Utopian  Moralist 

Nationalist 

34  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

Of  the  sensualists  there  are  three  classes,  —  the  warrior, 
the  priest,  and  the  capitalist.  The  subsequent  stages 
develop  by  experience  and  discipline.  The  warrior  breaks 
over  local  barriers,  seeks  new  regions,  and  there  develops 
an  aristocracy.  His  bearing  is  chivalrous  or  knightly, 
generosity  and  good  will  marking  all  his  social  relations. 
When  the  period  of  decay  sets  in,  he  seeks  to  resist  it  by 
a  revival  of  old  usages.  I  call  him,  then,  a  golden-age 
moralist  because  he  idealizes  the  distant  past,  when  his 
type  was  in  its  full  vigour.  This  type  of  morality  forms  a 
marked  contrast  with  the  Utopian  morality  of  the  demo- 
cratic stalwart  (5).  The  latter  would  destroy  the  old, 
and  seeks  to  construct  a  new  morality  out  of  the  abstract 
elements  which  his  ideals  furnish.  He  looks  to  the  future 
for  the  realization  of  his  dreams  as  confidently  and  as 
eagerly  as  the  golden-age  moralist  looks  to  the  past. 
Neither  of  them  is  likely  to  rise  above  this  state  to  a  truly 
religious  attitude.  The  rapidity  of  decay,  when  it  once 
sets  in,  prevents  further  progress. 

The  companion  of  the  warrior  is  the  priest.  His  disci- 
pline is  due  to  isolation.  He  is  early  taught  the  ritual  of 
his  religion,  the  necessity  of  a  strict  obedience  to  authority, 
and  the  formal  observance  of  all  rites  and  traditions.  This 
discipline  is  aided  by  ascetic  tendencies,  which  hold  in  re- 
straint his  natural  proclivities  to  sensual  indulgence.  In 
matters  of  creed  he  becomes  a  dogmatist ;  in  those  of  pub- 
lic policy  a  reactionnaire.  His  eager  desire  to  force  his  be- 
lief on  others  makes  him  a  zealot,  and  from  this  state  he 
is  easily  transformed  into  a  fanatic  and  a  persecutor.  The 
priest  who  is  here  described  must  not  be  confused  with  the 
missionary.  A  priest  has  some  interest  to  defend  or  some 
change  to  prevent.  He  is  a  persistent  tribute-taker,  and 
is  as  much  interested  in  his  tithes  as  the  warrior  is  in  rents 
and  taxation.  The  missionary,  on  the  contrary,  has  some 
change  to  bring  in.  Being  a  prophet  and  reformer,  he 
wishes  to  lead  the  people  away  from  custom  and  tradition, 


THE  THEORY  35 

to  higher  ideals.  Such  men  are  stalwarts,  they  depend 
for  their  success  upon  their  own  exertions,  and  are  out  of 
sympathy  with  the  tribute-taking  propensities  of  the 
priests. 

In  modern  times  these  classes  (1  and  2)  are  largely  dis- 
placed by  the  capitalists  (3),  who  show  the  same  propen- 
sities, but  in  a  more  refined  form.  The  typical  capitalists 
are  lovers  of  power  rather  than  of  sensual  indulgence,  but 
they  have  the  same  tendency  to  crush  and  to  take  tribute 
that  the  cruder  types  of  sensualism  possess.  The  disci- 
pline of  the  capitalist  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  frugalist. 
He  differs  from  the  latter  in  that  he  has  no  regard  for 
the  objects  through  which  his  productive  power  is  acquired. 
He  does  not  hesitate  to  exploit  natural  resources,  lands, 
dumb  animals,  and  even  his  fellow-men.  Capital  to  such 
a  man  is  an  abstract  fund,  made  up  of  perishable  elements 
which  are  constantly  replaced.  These  elements  have  no 
interest  for  him  except  as  sources  of  income.  They  make 
no  more  impression  upon  him  than  do  the  drops  of  water 
in  a  waterfall.  The  capitalist  is  refined,  not  by  his  work, 
nor  by  the  concrete  goods  that  pass  through  his  hands  and 
make  up  his  wealth,  but  through  the  use  he  makes  of  his 
income,  and  the  associations  it  permits.  He  becomes  a 
gentleman  in  that  meaning  of  the  word  which  makes  it  a 
class  distinction.  Susceptibility  to  the  aesthetic  comes  too 
late  to  have  a  formative  influence  upon  his  character.  As 
his  circle  of  interest  narrows,  he  becomes  a  conservative, 
and  often  a  tory. 

The  frugalism  of  the  stalwart  types  stands  in  marked 
contrast  to  the  attitude  of  the  capitalist.  The  frugalist 
takes  a  vital  interest  in  his  tools,  in  his  land,  and  in  the 
goods  he  produces.  He  has  a  definite  attachment  to  each 
of  these.  He  dislikes  to  see  an  old  coat  wear  out,  an  old 
wagon  break  down,  or  an  old  horse  go  lame.  He  always 
thinks  of  concrete  things,  wants  them  and  nothing  else. 
He  desires  not  lands,  but  a  given  farm  ;  not  horses,  cattle, 


36  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

and  machines,  but  particular  breeds  and  implements  ;  not 
shelter,  but  a  home  ;  not  food,  but  bread,  meat,  or  some 
other  definite  article  of  diet.  He  rejects  as  unworthy 
what  is  below  this  standard,  and  despises  as  luxurious  what 
is  above  or  outside  of  it.  He  visualizes  the  future  in 
present  forms  ;  his  angels  must  have  wings  of  a  given 
shape  ;  his  heaven  must  be  paved  with  a  particular  kind 
of  stones,  and  be  laid  out  with  the  regularity  of  his  farm. 
Dominated  by  his  activities,  he  thinks  of  his  capital  goods 
as  means  to  particular  ends.  Income  is  secondary  to 
efficiency. 

The  discipline  of  the  stalwarts  is  in  their  work.  The 
curve  of  each  type  gets  its  initial  direction  from  its  pecul- 
iar industrial  vocation.  The  earlier  type  (4)  increased 
their  discipline  by  becoming  abstainers.  They  limited 
their  activity  and  pleasure  by  many  arbitrary  lines  drawn 
with  the  idea  of  suppressing  sensualism.  After  becoming 
frugalists,  they  develop  into  liberals.  This  term  I  use  in 
the  ordinary  political  sense  to  represent  the  attitude  of 
the  great  middle  class  who  are  eager  to  reduce  the  higher 
classes  to  their  level,  but  are  not  so  willing  to  share  their 
privileges  with  the  classes  below  them.  They  want  to  be 
guardians  of  the  poor,  rather  than  their  equals.  A  liberal 
is  not  willing  to  fraternize  with  those  who  have  not  ac- 
quired his  qualities.  To  him  economy  is  the  only  gateway 
to  political  rights  and  freedom.  I  have  used  the  term 
"  Calvinist "  to  describe  the  religious  feelings  of  this  (the 
fourth)  class,  and  the  term  "  Methodist  "  for  those  of  the 
sixth  type.  The  one  class  might  be  said  to  conceive  of 
themselves  as  the  sons  of  God,  and  the  other  as  brothers 
in  Christ.  By  this  I  mean  that  the  first  regard  them- 
selves as  favourites,  having  an  inherited  position  and  rights 
such  as  sons  have.  They  are  the  "elect,"  and  contrast 
themselves  sharply  with  the  unregenerate  who  lack  their 
privileges.  God's  treatment  of  the  Jews  favours  such  con- 
cepts, and  the  religion  of  the  old  liberal  was  derived  more 


THE   THEORY  37 

largely  from  the  Old  Testament  than  from  the  New.  In 
the  concept  of  brothers  in  Christ  the  bond  between  men 
is  conceived  to  be  not  one  of  blood  but  of  grace.  Such  a 
bond  is  more  democratic  than  that  of  Calvinism,  and  holds 
together  men  of  a  widely  different  character.  The  fifth 
type  represents  the  Utopian  democrat  so  common  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  Such  a  man  lias  the  concepts  and 
ideals  of  the  frugalist ;  he  is  a  democrat  only  because  he  is 
blind  to  the  differences  between  himself  and  others.  The 
true  cosmopolitan  is  the  mugwump  who  does  in  Rome  what 
the  Romans  do.  The  pronounced  democrat  wants  the 
Romans  to  do  as  he  does,  and  attributes  their  not  doing 
so  to  the  tyranny  and  oppression  of  rulers.  He  is  willing 
to  sweep  these  obstacles  away,  but  expects  in  return  a 
universal  conformity  to  his  ideals  and  creed.  Such  a  man 
is  naturally  humanitarian  in  his  sympathies,  but  does  not 
readily  become  religious,  because  he  seeks  to  realize  his 
ideals  in  human  societies  and  through  the  natural  impulses 
of  men.  The  eighteenth-century  enthusiast  expected 
not  merely  the  perfection  of  man  on  earth,  but  also  his 
immortality.  There  is  no  need  of  religion  where  Utopian 
schemes  seem  so  easy  to  realize. 

The  stalwarts  of  to-day  tend  towards  the  sixth  type. 
These  are  artists  as  well  as  workers,  for  they  get  pleasure 
from  their  work.  Their  aesthetic  feelings,  however,  mani- 
fest themselves  in  what  common  people  call  nice  rather 
than  in  what  professional  artists  call  beautiful.  The 
farmer  who  is  irritated  at  the  sight  of  waste  land  and  stony 
fields,  and  who  judges  of  his  neighbour's  character  by  the 
neatness  of  his  fences  and  the  straightness  of  his  rows  of 
corn,  has  an  aesthetic  element  in  his  nature.  So  has  the 
engineer  who  loves  his  locomotive,  or  the  sailor  who  loves 
his  ship.  This  class  also  get  satisfaction  from  the  quality 
of  implements,  animals,  and  products.  Their  frugalism 
takes  the  form  of  house-building,  of  home  decorations,  or 
of  insurance.     In  public  life  they  are  nationalists,  taking 


38  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

pleasure  in  every  manifestation  of  national  power  and 
greatness.  They  do  not  perceive  so  much  the  utility  of 
these  objects  as  their  inherent  excellence.  To  them  a 
war-ship  is  not  a  thing  of  use,  but  of  beauty.  They  take 
more  satisfaction  in  the  ships  that  carry  the  flag  around 
the  world,  than  in  art  galleries,  and  would  tax  themselves 
more  willingly  for  the  former  than  for  the  latter.  This 
may  be  a  low  form  of  art,  but  it  is  widespread,  and  because 
of  it  the  political  feelings  of  to-day  centre  in  different 
objects  from  those  of  a  century  ago.  Nationalism  is  more 
concrete  than  the  old  type  of  democracy,  but  it  affords 
more  intense  objects  of  gratification  and  creates  a  stronger 
bond  of  union. 

I  use  the  term  "  co-worker  "  to  indicate  their  social  long- 
ings. They  do  not  like  to  act  by  themselves,  but  always 
in  concert  with  others.  They  form  all  kinds  of  societies 
to  assist  each  other,  and  to  stimulate  mutual  endeavour. 
They  join  unions  when  they  work,  prefer  prayer  and  class 
meetings  to  individual  worship,  and  when  they  save  they 
do  it  in  clubs  with  weekly  dues,  instead  of  buying  stocks 
or  bonds  as  capitalists  would  do.  The  older  type  were 
abstainers,  and  punished  offenders  by  excommunication, 
exclusion  from  the  "  elect "  being  the  greatest  of  punish- 
ments. The  new  type  do  not  hesitate  to  constrain  those 
that  differ  from  them  or  fall  below  their  standards.  No 
one  outside  of  their  societies  is  safe  from  interference, 
even  in  his  most  private  affairs.  All  these  peculiarities 
are  due  to  the  growth  of  social  feelings,  by  which  the  new 
stalwarts  are  to  be  distinguished  from  their  prototypes  in 
preceding  centuries. 

In  primitive  times  the  stock  of  national  ideas  was 
blended  into  one  group.  The  requisites  for  survival  were 
few  in  number,  and  not  so  sharply  set  off  from  one  another 
as  to  allow  each  of  them  to  have  a  definite  influence  on 
the  national  character.     Some  one  aggregate  exerted  so 


THE   THEORY  39 

dominant  an  influence  that  all  the  activities  were  stimu- 
lated by  it,  and  thus  forced  to  run  in  a  channel  too  narrow 
to  admit  of  a  separation  of  the  exciting  motives  into  groups. 
In  time,  however,  the  number  of  limiting  aggregates  in- 
creased, and  the  importance  of  each  of  them  diminished. 
They  now  exert  their  influence  in  succession,  and  thus  a 
regular  order  of  progress  is  acquired.  A  conscious  cal- 
culation of  utilities  is  the  distinctive  mark  of  this  stage. 
The  aggregates,  or  goods  as  they  are  technically  called, 
are  numerous,  and  in  many  ways  interchangeable.  As  many 
different  kinds  of  goods  supply  the  same  want,  substitu- 
tions are  so  frequent  as  to  be  the  rule.  It  becomes  possi- 
ble, therefore,  to  think  of  goods  as  made  up  of  increments, 
each  of  which  gives  the  same  amount  of  pleasure.  In  a 
strictly  economic  world  there  are  no  aggregates  of  so 
much  importance  that  they  cannot  be  valued  by  the  utility 
of  their  increments.  The  acquisition  of  a  mass  of  new 
goods  capable  of  being  substituted  for  goods  hitherto  in- 
dispensable, destroys  the  absolute  utility  of  the  older 
goods,  and  takes  from  them  the  special  motives  that  led 
to  their  acquisition.  They  are  now  thought  of  as  isolated 
increments,  each  of  which  has  the  same  influence  in  the 
summing  of  utilities.  Economic  doctrines  relate  to  ob- 
jects viewed  as  increments  capable  of  substitution,  and 
they  must  change  with  the  increase  or  decrease  of  those 
objects  which  can,  without  loss,  be  split  up  into  parts  and 
substituted  for  one  another. 

It  is,  however,  soon  found  that  some  groupings  of  goods 
create  more  pleasure  than  others.  Some  articles  have  a 
greater  utility  when  consumed  together  than  if  consumed 
separately,  while  the  joint  consumption  of  other  articles 
decreases  the  sum  of  pleasure  they  are  capable  of  creating. 
The  harmony  of  consumption  thus  becomes  an  important 
consideration,  and  to  it  is  due  the  growth  of  those  aesthetic 
feelings  that  give  a  special  value  to  particular  combina- 
tions  of   goods.      These   aesthetic   groups   of    goods   are 


40  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

formed  in  food  products,  in  clothing,  in  home  fur- 
nishing, and  in  every  other  way  in  which  goods  are 
consumed.  The  power  of  substitution  is  thus  curtailed  ; 
large  aggregates,  once  more  becoming  important,  are  val- 
ued as  wholes,  and  have  special  motor  reactions  excited 
by  their  appearance.  A  new  use  is  found  for  those  special 
motor  mechanisms  formed  by  the  dominant  aggregates  of 
the  old  environment,  and  thus  the  growth  of  concepts  and 
ideals  is  favoured,  through  which  alone  an  adjustment  to 
large  aggregates  is  possible.  An  economic  attitude  dis- 
solves aggregates  into  their  parts ;  an  aesthetic  attitude 
merges  them  again  into  larger  wholes.  The  one  promotes 
conscious  calculation  and  a  summing  of  utilities  ;  the  other 
emphasizes  particular  groups  of  goods,  and  creates  special 
motives  for  their  acquisition. 

The  aesthetic  aggregates  are  large,  but  they  are  not  ab- 
solute nor  indispensable.  Like  the  economic  aggregates, 
they  are  goods  or  groups  of  goods.  In  both  fields  the 
thought  is  centred  on  the  particulars  of  the  environ- 
ment, and  not  on  its  general  and  essential  features.  In 
morals  and  religion,  however,  the  necessary  relations  be- 
tween beings  in  an  environment  are  emphasized.  They 
deal,  in  short,  with  environed  beings.  Time  relations, 
space  relations,  and  permanent  advantages  are  fully  util- 
ized only  when  clear  concepts  of  environment  are  created, 
in  which  each  being  stands  in  definite  relations  to  every 
other  being.  Without  such  place  concepts,  religion  and 
morals  would  be  absent,  or  at  least  too  vague  to  create 
epochs  in  history. 

Thus  economics  and  aesthetics  treat  of  goods,  while 
morals  and  religion  treat  of  places  or  environments.  Yet 
from  another  standpoint,  morals  should  be  classed  with 
economics,  and  religion  with  aesthetics.  Morals  and  eco- 
nomics deal  with  equal  increments.  There  would  be  no 
economic  science  if  goods  could  not  replace  each  other, 
and  be  valued  by  some  common  standard.     There  could 


THE  THEORY  41 

be  no  morals  if  beings  were  not  in  one  environment,  and 
so  nearly  alike  that  they  could  exchange  places.  Every 
moral  rule  depends  on  reciprocal  relations.  It  demands 
that  the  actor  should  put  himself  in  his  neighbour's  place 
and  thus  feel  the  effects  of  his  own  acts.  No  one  can 
appreciate  the  Golden  Rule  unless  he  thinks  of  others  as 
being  like  himself.  The  thought  of  equality  and  the  pos- 
sibility of  substitution  runs  through  all  things  moral,  just 
as  the  equality  and  the  substitution  of  goods  are  essential 
ideas  to  economics.  They  both  have  convertible  units, 
but  of  different  kinds. 

The  aesthetic  and  the  religious  units  are  aggregates  so 
dissimilar  that  substitution  is  impossible.  They  cannot 
be  dissolved  into  increments  without  losing  their  char- 
acter. ^Esthetics  would  disappear  if  all  goods  were  in- 
crements capable  of  complete  substitution.  We  should 
lose  religion  if  all  beings  were  identical  and  placed  in  one 
environment.  If,  as  Bentham  claimed,  push-pin  were  as 
good  as  poetry,  there  would  be  no  aesthetic  feelings.  So, 
also,  there  would  be  no  room  for  religion  if  the  growth  of 
scientific  knowledge  should  destroy  all  hope  of  another 
world,  or  of  any  relations  between  our  planet  and  other 
parts  of  the  universe  ;  men  without  such  hope  gravitate 
naturally  towards  a  moral  standpoint,  just  as  men  like  Ben- 
tham become  economists.  A  single  environment  can  de- 
velop but  one  type  of  men,  and  the  longer  it  endures  the 
more  crushing  will  be  the  forces  that  make  men  alike,  with 
duties  and  pleasures  capable  of  complete  substitution. 
In  religion  there  is  a  comparison  of  environments  with 
beings  having  unequal  powers  and  different  pleasures  and 
duties.  Gods  are  by  nature  different  from  men,  and  the 
position  and  duties  of  the  two  classes  are  not  interchange- 
able. Religious  goods  are  never  paid  for  in  kind.  We 
do  for  beings  with  other  natures  what  we  do  not  expect 
them  to  do  for  us,  and  we  expect  of  them  what  we  could 
not  do  ourselves.     In  morals  there  is  no  heaven  or  hell. 


42  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

Moral  relations  pertain  to  men  in  one  environment.  Men 
acquire  religious  motives  and  ideals  only  after  they  have 
learned  to  picture  other  environments  than  that  in  which 
they  live. 

Religion  and  morals  are  thus  in  their  nature  distinct, 
although  at  present  the  two  seem  to  be  blended  into  one 
group.  This  blending  is  the  result  of  the  enlarging  of 
the  moral  environment  until  it  includes  the  whole  world. 
In  earlier  times  moral  relations  were  local,  or  at  best 
national.  Race  isolation  and  antagonism  were  so  great 
that  the  people  of  one  nation  did  not  recognize  those  of 
other  nations  as  equals  and  brothers.  They  had  no  feel- 
ing of  identity,  no  consciousness  of  kind.  Such  dissimi- 
lar units  can  be  brought  into  harmony  only  through 
religion,  for  by  it  alone  are  beings  with  different  natures 
made  to  feel  their  dependence  on  one  another.  At  the 
present  time,  however,  the  unity  of  the  human  race  is  so 
manifest  that  it  has  become  a  race  ideal.  As  unifying 
tendencies  become  more  powerful  and  weld  the  race  into 
one  dominant  type,  the  relations  between  men  come  more 
fully  within  the  field  of  morals ;  heaven  and  hell  are  no 
longer  thought  of  as  local  environments  to  be  found  some- 
where on  earth,  and  God  is  no  longer  the  ruler  of  a  nation 
or  of  the  earth,  but  of  the  universe.  The  units  of  the 
religious  world,  no  longer  localities  or  nations,  become 
planets  and  solar  systems.  Morality  thus  tends  to  sup- 
plant religion  in  human  relations,  while  a  larger  field 
with  more  profound  differences  is  created  for  religion. 
By  these  changes,  however,  neither  morality  nor  religion 
is  altered.  They  are  confused  with  each  other  in  the 
popular  thought,  because  the  field  of  morality  is  now  co- 
extensive with  the  former  field  of  religion.  But  such  a 
confusion  can  be  only  temporary,  and  will  be  followed  by 
a  clearer  separation  of  the  two  than  has  ever  before  been 
possible. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  history  of  thought  has 


THE   THEORY  43 

four  stages,  each  of  which  has  peculiarities  of  its  own,  and 
must  be  studied  by  itself.  The  economic  stage  comes 
first,  because  its  aggregates  are  the  smallest  and  most 
capable  of  substitution.  The  aesthetic  stage  follows,  in 
which  the  increments  of  economic  welfare  are  united  into 
harmonious  groups.  Later,  the  environment  is  conceived 
of  as  a  unit,  and  its  relations,  when  perceived,  become 
moral  rules.  And  finally  other  environments  peopled 
with  dissimilar  beings  are  recognized,  and  upon  this 
basis  religion  grows  up.  When  a  new  environment  is 
entered,  this  series  of  changes  repeats  itself.  They 
cannot,  however,  appear  in  so  simple  a  form  as  at  first, 
because  the  concepts  and  ideals  of  the  preceding  epoch 
remain,  and  are  displaced  or  modified  only  with  great 
difficulty.  The  economic  stage  now  becomes  doubly  im- 
portant. New  economic  goods  which  extend  the  oppor- 
tunities for  substitution  make  it  possible  to  group  them 
in  other  ways.  The  larger  aggregates  of  the  aesthetic, 
moral,  and  religious  worlds  must  be  dissolved  into  their 
increments,  or  at  least  have  their  power  of  cohesion 
thoroughly  tested.  An  economic  attitude  is  primarily 
opposed  to  other  attitudes  because  it  tends  to  reduce 
all  objects  to  infinitesimal  increments  of  equal  impor- 
tance. A  new  economic  epoch  at  first  narrows  the  scope 
of  the  higher  forms  of  thought,  and  may  seem  to  exter- 
minate them.  But  new  aggregates  are  formed  as  readily 
on  the  new  basis  as  on  the  old  one.  In  time  the  dissolv- 
ing tendencies  of  the  economic  stage  are  checked,  and  the 
new  aggregates  displace  or  blend  with  those  of  the  earlier 
epoch.  The  victory  of  economic  thought  is  thus  but  tem- 
porary. It  is  followed  by  a  reaction  which  may  give  to 
the  higher  forms  of  thought  an  even  greater  place  than 
they  had  before  the  transition  to  the  new  environment.  I 
shall  attempt  to  illustrate  these  facts  by  a  diagram. 

Let  A,  B,  C,  and  D  represent  the  succeeding  economic 
environments   through  which  a  nation   passes.      In   the 


44 


DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 


epoch  created,  by  the  environment  A  a  body  of  economic 
doctrines  and  ideas  will  be  formed,  which  we  will  call  a1. 
Subsequently  a  body  of  aesthetic  ideas  will  develop  which 
can  be  designated  by  bl ;  then  will  grow  up  a  body  of 
moral  doctrines  represented  by  c\  and  finally  the  religious 
ideas  of  the  epoch  will  appear  in  d1.  The  epoch  will  thus 
create  a  body  of  doctrines  in  each  of  the  four  fields,  and 
the  order  of  progress  will  be  represented  by  the  line  from 
A  to  d1.  These  ideas  will  remain  until  the  new  environ- 
ment is  entered  at  B.  A  new  development  will  now  take 
place  in  the  same  order  as  before,  creating  doctrines  and 
ideas  represented  by  a2,  62,  c2,  and  d?.    The  third  environ- 


ment C  will  in  a  like  manner  create  a3,  J3,  c3,  and  d?.  Each 
succeeding  environment  will  in  the  same  way  create  a  new 
series  of  economic,  aesthetic,  moral,  and  religious  ideas 
which  will  have  their  basis  in  the  economic  conditions  of 
the  epoch.  The  history  of  each  epoch  is  thus  practically 
independent,  starting  from  its  own  conditions  and  develop- 
ing in  its  own  way.  In  studying  an  epoch,  the  economic 
conditions  must  be  studied  first,  then  the  economic  doc- 
trines that  flow  from  them,  and  last  the  aesthetic,  moral, 
and  religious  ideas  which  the  epoch  produces. 

The  different  groups  of  ideas  cannot  be  traced  inde- 
pendently, because  the  ideas  of  each  epoch  do  not  grow 
out  of  the  similar  ideas  of  the  preceding  epoch,  but  are 
formed  anew  from  the  new  conditions.  The  economic 
group  a2  does  not  develop  out  of  a1,  but  out  of  the  condi- 


THE   THEORY  45 

tions  of  environment  B.  Only  after  group  a2  has  been 
formed  is  it  possible  to  blend  it  with  group  a1,  or  with 
that  part  of  a1  which,  being  in  harmony  with  the  new  con- 
ditions, endures  in  the  second  period.  So  also  b2  springs 
from  a2  and  not  from  b\  while  c2  springs  from  b2  and  not 
from  c1.  New  ideas  in  any  group  seem  at  first  to  be 
opposed  to  the  old  group  of  ideas,  because  they  spring 
from  other  conditions.  None  of  the  ideas  of  the  old  group 
can  become  a  part  of  the  new  group  unless  they  harmonize 
with  the  new  conditions  and  would  have  naturally  grown 
out  of  them.  If  ideas  in  harmony  with  the  new  condi- 
tions have  been  worked  out  in  earlier  epochs,  they  merely 
hasten  the  development  of  the  new  epoch,  but  do  not 
change  its  ultimate  form  or  character. 

A  history  of  aesthetic,  moral,  or  religious  thought,  each 
taken  independently,  is  impossible,  because  the  later  epochs 
do  not  grow  out  of  the  older  epochs,  but  out  of  new  mate- 
rial. In  passing,  for  example,  from  c1  to  e2  and  c4  breaks 
would  be  encountered  that  would  render  it  impossible  to 
trace  a  logical  order  of  development.  Such  a  history 
would  be  merely  an  aggregation  of  isolated  facts.  His- 
tory, to  be  valuable,  must  be  studied  in  epochs,  and  each 
group  of  ideas  be  connected  with  its  roots  in  the  under- 
lying conditions,  and  not  with  its  antecedents  in  the  same 
group.  The  blending  of  the  old  and  the  new  groups  of 
ideas  happens  after  the  new  conditions  have  exerted  their 
force,  or  at  least  have  brought  out  what  is  most  peculiar 
to  them.  This  blending  should,  therefore,  be  studied 
after  it  is  known  what  old  ideas  harmonize  with  the  new 
conditions. 

The  theory  illustrated  by  this  diagram  will  be  more 
readily  recognized  if  it  is  made  to  represent  the  develop- 
ment of  a  series  of  nations,  instead  of  epochs  in  the 
progress  of  a  single  nation.  Let,  for  example,  al-d}  rep- 
resent the  development  of  Greece,  a2-d?  that  of  Rome, 
a3-#  that  of  the  German  race,  and  a*-d*  that  of   Eng- 


46  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

land.  Then  it  will  be  seen  that  Greek  ideas  grew  out 
of  their  own  economic  conditions,  or  those  of  preced- 
ing races.  Home  developed  from  its  own  basis  groups  of 
ideas  in  each  of  the  four  stages,  and  these  were  later 
blended  with  those  coming  from  the  Greek  civilization. 
The  early  Germans  passed  through  the  four  stages  inde- 
pendently, and  at  a  later  period  their  ideas  were  modified 
by  those  coming  from  Rome.  In  the  same  way  England 
had  its  peculiar  development,  and  the  ideas  thus  acquired 
in  isolation  were  afterward  blended  with  those  of  the  Ger- 
man race. 

Before  the  rise  of  modern  nations  progress  took  this 
form.  Each  nation  rose  out  of  the  peculiar  conditions  of 
its  environment,  developed  groups  of  ideas  in  each  of  the 
four  fields,  and  then  through  contact  with  other  civiliza- 
tions received  ideas  from  them  which  were  blended  with 
those  acquired  in  its  own  history.  Each  nation,  after  thus 
passing  through  one  epoch,  lost  its  vitality  by  decay.  A 
new  nation,  following  it  in  another  environment,  received 
from  its  predecessor  a  civilization  which  it  made  its  own 
by  blending  the  older  groups  of  ideas  with  those  peculiar 
to  its  own  conditions.  In  modern  times,  however,  nations 
are  more  stable  and  enduring.  They  survive  through 
several  epochs  as  distinct  as  were  the  national  civilizations 
in  earlier  times.  New  conditions  give  to  them  in  each 
epoch  the  same  impetus  to  progress  that  in  former  times 
they  gave  to  new  nations. 

The  stages  of  progress  are  repeated  in  the  same  order, 
and  in  the  end  the  same  tendencies  to  decay  appear. 
This  degeneration,  however,  does  not,  as  in  earlier  times, 
destroy  the  nation,  but  ends  in  a  reversion  to  a  more  primi- 
tive type  of  men,  more  capable  of  an  adjustment  to  the 
new  conditions.  Then  the  nation  is  ready  for  a  new 
epoch  of  progress.  In  each  new  environment  a  new  na- 
tion grows  up  almost  as  distinct  from  its  predecessors  as 
were  the  new  nations  of  ancient  times  from  the  nations 


THE  THEORY  47 

that  preceded  them.  Changes  that  do  not  destroy  the 
traditions  and  continuity  of  a  race  are  less  striking  than 
those  produced  by  a  revolution  or  a  conquest,  but  they 
are  no  less  radical.  The  transition  from  environment 
to  environment  is  now  more  costly  and  destructive  than 
before,  but  its  effects  are  diffused  throughout  the  nation 
without  jar  or  eruption ;  less  blood  is  spilled,  and  fewer 
people  are  expelled  from  national  boundaries,  but  more 
graves  are  filled  and  more  people  turned  out  of  doors. 
Short  migrations  may  be  as  significant,  and  produce  as 
powerful  effects  as  those  taking  people  over  continents  or 
seas.  Therefore,  if  attention  is  given  to  the  right  phe- 
nomena, no  more  difficulty  is  experienced  in  tracing  the 
epochs  in  the  progress  of  a  single  modern  nation  than  in 
tracing  those  epochs  of  ancient  civilization  which  were 
created  by  the  rise  and  fall  of  nations.  The  England  of 
to-day  differs  nearly  as  much  from  the  England  of  the 
last  century  as  Rome  differed  from  Greece,  or  Egypt 
from  Assyria. 

If  a  nation  were  so  completely  unified  as  to  have  but 
one  type  of  citizen,  the  changes  in  economic  conditions 
would  affect  every  one  alike,  and  be  apparent  to  all.  In 
a  nation  with  classes  the  changes  affect  the  different 
classes  unequally,  and  at  different  times.  Some  classes 
decay,  while  others  gain  in  strength  and  assume  a  more 
prominent  place.  The  nation  as  a  whole  may  have 
changed  but  little  in  its  general  position  or  character- 
istics, and  yet  the  history  of  some  one  class  may  show  all 
the  stages  of  progress  that  new  economic  conditions  can 
bring  about.  The  nation  as  a  whole  may  be  influenced 
by  the  new  ideas  only  after  this  class  progress  is  practi- 
cally complete.  Then  takes  place  that  blending  of  the 
new  and  the  old  ideas  which  represents  the  final  stages 
of  an  epoch  of  progress.  Thus,  the  changes  that  brought 
Methodism  into  prominence  affected  at  first  only  a  partic- 
ular class,  which  for  some  time  developed  along  its  own 


48  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

lines  quite  independent  of  the  tendencies  prominent  in 
the  national  thought.  It  was  only  at  a  later  time  that 
these  ideas  permeated  the  whole  society  and  became  a 
part  of  the  national  thought.  The  Puritan  reformation 
had  a  similar  history,  and  its  ideas  modified  national 
thought  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty. 

Sectional  differences  in  a  nation  have  the  same  effect 
as  class  differences  in  obscuring  the  changes  due  to  a 
period  of  transition.  In  every  large  nation  these  differ- 
ences are  quite  marked,  especially  where  they  indicate 
intensity  in  the  economic  life  of  each  section.  Many 
country  places  are  little  affected  by  modern  development, 
and  even  in  the  cities  certain  classes  live  and  act  as  did 
their  ancestors  of  many  ages  ago.  Again,  these  obscure 
parts  of  the  nation  are  often  the  places  where  the  new 
conditions  create  the  greatest  changes.  In  them  new 
ideas  take  root,  have  a  rapid  development,  and  may 
reach  their  ultimate  goal  before  the  more  advanced  and 
conservative  parts  of  the  nation  are  aware  either  of  the 
changes,  or  of  their  effects. 

The  eagerness  with  which  new  ideas  are  seized  by  cer- 
tain classes,  and  the  intensity  of  their  effects  in  certain 
localities,  make  the  phenomena  of  a  new  period  resemble 
those  that  accompany  sudden  changes  in  atmospheric  con- 
ditions. There  are  storm  centres  of  thought  as  well  as  of 
rain.  Every  new  group  of  ideas  finds  some  class  to  which 
they  are  especially  attractive,  and  some  place  where  they 
are  particularly  congenial.  Here  they  develop  often  in 
grotesque  forms,  yet  with  the  new  truth  sharply  accentu- 
ated. From  this  centre  they  spread  to  other  regions  or 
to  other  classes,  where  the  same  causes  are  at  work,  but 
in  a  less  pronounced  form.  The  storm  finally  loses  itself 
in  distant  regions  where  other  conditions  are  dominant, 
or  among  other  classes  whose  interests  and  feelings  are 
centred  on  other  problems.  Few,  if  any,  ideas  are  uni- 
versal.    They  have  a  broader  or  narrower  range  of  influ- 


THE  THEORY  49 

ence  according  to  the  extent  of  the  region  in  which  the 
conditions  exist  that  produce  them.  Religious,  political, 
or  social  ideas  of  any  sort  meet  insuperable  barriers  as 
soon  as  they  reach  the  limits  of  the  environment  in  which 
they  were  produced  ;  and  long  before  this  limit  is  reached 
they  are  usually  so  weakened  and  diluted  with  foreign 
matter  as  to  lose  most  of  their  force. 

The  writers  who  exert  the  greatest  influence  in  spread- 
ing ideas  usually  represent  not  the  constructive  epochs 
in  national  thought,  but  only  the  period  when  the  ideas  of 
the  new  epoch  are  blended  with  those  of  the  older  epoch. 
The  really  constructive  books  are  often  the  unsuccessful 
efforts  of  earlier  writers  who  have  failed,  not  because  their 
ideas  were  unsound,  but  because  their  attention  was  too 
much  concentrated  on  the  new  conditions  to  value  properly 
the  enduring  elements  of  past  civilizations.  These  primi- 
tive leaders  blend  together  certain  ideas  fitted  for  the  new 
conditions  with  certain  old  forms  of  thought,  the  survivals 
of  earlier  times.  Even  the  new  ideas  are  looked  upon  as 
revivals  ;  hence  the  emphasis  is  placed  upon  a  return 
to  the  old  rather  than  upon  an  advance  to  the  new. 

Periods  of  transition  thus  tend  to  revive  a  host  of  dis- 
carded ideas,  which  are  so  blended  with  really  new  ideas 
that  they  seem  to  have  one  origin.  All  sorts  of  crazes 
and  "isms"  appear  and  obscure  the  real  issues.  Con- 
servative men  reject  the  new  ideas  and  despise  the  new 
leaders,  because  the  revivals  of  the  old  cannot  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  beginnings  of  the  new.  It  takes  time 
and  the  efforts  of  really  great  men  to  disentangle  the  two 
elements,  and  thus  to  allow  the  new  to  be  merged  in  the 
stock  of  ideas.  These  great  men  deserve  all  the  praise 
they  get,  yet  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  their  work 
does  not  make  a  complete  history  of  thought.  A  valuable 
part  of  this  history  lies  in  the  work  of  obscure  writers 
whom  society  too  often  has  good  reason  to  dislike.  They 
may  have  been  short-sighted,  blunt,  and  outspoken,  but 


50  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

they  gave  to  the  new  conditions  an  emphasis  that  started 
new  trains  of  thought,  and  brought  new  ideas  to  the  front. 
They  make,  therefore,  the  starting-point  of  each  epoch, 
and  their  writings  must  be  studied  to  find  the  sources 
from  which  the  later  writers  derived  their  inspiration. 

I  have  tried  to  show  that  the  environment  influencing 
and  controlling  the  actions  of  men  is  not  the  sum  of  those 
enduring  external  agencies  which  we  call  physical  laws 
or  matter  in  general.  This  environment  rather  consists 
of  certain  definite  objects  and  forces  in  a  concrete  form, 
which  at  a  given  time  are  the  requisites  for  survival.  An 
economic  epoch  lasts  as  long  as  a  given  group  of  these 
requisites  continues,  and  when  this  group  is  succeeded 
partly  or  wholly  by  another  an  economic  pressure  begins, 
which  promotes  the  growth  of  new  motor  reactions  suited 
to  the  new  conditions.  Thus  there  exists  not  one  perpet- 
ual environment,  but  a  series  of  temporary  environments, 
each  of  which  has  given  to  the  race  certain  characteristics 
that  become  a  part  of  the  national  character.  And  thus 
character  is  the  one  enduring  growing  element  in  a  civili- 
zation ;  all  else  when  compared  with  it  is  temporary  and 
fleeting. 

Although  the  economic  conditions  are  the  primary  source 
from  which  all  elements  in  the  national  character  arise,  it 
would  be  a  mistake  to  think  that  the  national  character 
is  nothing  more  than  the  ruling  motives  of  the  economic 
world.  Economic  conditions  create  the  primary  motor 
reactions,  but  subsequent  transformations  put  them  to  new 
uses  and  give  them  a  form  quite  different  from  that  they 
have  at  the  outset.  So  long  as  certain  conditions  remain 
requisites  for  survival,  the  motor  reactions  of  a  given 
environment  must  respond  to  these  conditions.  But  when 
new  conditions  become  requisites  for  survival,  there  is  no 
longer  the  same  need  of  definite  responses  to  the  stimuli  of 
earlier  requisites.    Since  the  motor  reaction  is  now  excited 


THE   THEORY  51 

not  merely  by  these  stimuli  but  by  others  of  a  similar 
nature,  in  time  a  group  of  ideas  gradually  becoming  more 
abstract  and  clear  is  substituted  for  a  definite  and  ob- 
jective condition.  A  well-formed  motor  reaction  may  be 
thought  of  as  a  store  of  energy,  ready  for  discharge  ;  if 
the  stimuli  causing  the  reaction  are  not  applied,  the  strain 
is  relieved  through  a  discharge  which  takes  place  as  a 
result  of  contact  with  other  similar  objects.  Even  the 
thought  of  an  object  or  of  associated  objects  may  produce 
this  effect  if  the  strain  is  increased  by  a  long  delay. 
The  consequence  is  that  a  motor  reaction,  after  losing  its 
primal  economic  importance,  responds  to  abstract  instead 
of  concrete  phenomena.  The  conditions  arousing  it  are 
idealized  and  modified  so  as  to  harmonize  with  the  requi- 
sites of  survival  of  the  new  epoch. 

Reversions  always  take  place  in  periods  of  transition. 
If  the  concepts  created  by  motor  reactions  do  not  harmo- 
nize with  the  new  conditions,  the  type  disappears  as  do 
other  temporary  aberrations ;  but  if  they  do  harmonize, 
then  these  modified  concepts  become  ideals,  making  the 
reactions  of  the  new  epoch  different  and  more  effective 
than  they  otherwise  would  be. 

A  conversion  is  a  further  step  in  this  change.  When  a 
motor  reaction  is  so  far  removed  from  its  specific  stimulus 
that  it  is  aroused  only  by  an  association  of  ideas,  this 
group  of  ideas  may  be  displaced  by  another  group,  and 
the  motor  reaction  be  aroused  by  an  entirely  new  set  of 
conditions.  The  concrete  conditions  stimulating  a  given 
motor  reaction  may  disappear ;  old  associations  of  ideas 
may  die  out,  but  the  motor  reaction  itself  remains  as  an 
enduring  part  of  the  mental  mechanism,  after  the  exciting 
causes  are  gone.  When  new  conditions  arise,  this  unused 
mechanism  is  readily  appropriated  for  the  expression  of 
new  ideas.  Though  hard  to  create,  motor  reactions  once 
formed  do  not  fall  permanently  into  disuse.  When  the 
old  conditions  fail  to  excite  the  reactions,  ideals  steal  in,  as 


52  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

it  were,  and  appropriate  the  nest  others  have  built.  With 
no  power  in  themselves  to  create  motor  reactions  in  this 
way,  they  obtain  motor  reactions  through  which  to  express 
themselves. 

This  fact  makes  the  development  of  thought  in  each 
epoch  different  from  what  it  would  otherwise  be.  The 
new  conditions  give  an  advantage  to  a  new  type  of  men, 
who  begin  a  natural  development  from  the  concrete  and 
present  to  the  abstract  and  distant.  But  the  older  type 
of  men,  put  at  a  disadvantage  by  the  new  conditions  of 
survival,  do  not  give  up  the  contest  without  a  struggle. 
They  are  the  class  whose  characters  are  most  developed, 
and  whose  motor  reactions  are  most  in  harmony  with  the 
past  conditions  that  created  the  national  character.  Feel- 
ing, therefore,  the  absence  of  the  old  stimuli  that  aroused 
their  motor  reactions,  they  are  forced  to  find  new  stimuli, 
if  they  would  profit  by  the  advantage  that  their  superior 
characters  give.  If  they  are  successful  in  finding  new 
means  of  arousing  all  the  motor  reactions  of  which  they 
are  capable,  the  superiority  of  the  new  type  of  men  is 
transitory.  When  they  are  enabled  thus  to  survive,  men 
of  the  earlier  type  often  become  a  dominant  element  in 
the  new  society. 

Men  who  are  capable  of  advancing  thought  belong  to 
one  of  two  classes.  The  class  in  whom  race  instincts 
and  ideals  are  strongly  developed  become,  according  as 
the  special  conditions  of  their  period  determine,  philoso- 
phers, moralists,  or  prophets.  I  shall  call  them  the  phi- 
losophers because  this  class  of  thinkers  has  had  the 
greatest  influence  in  England.  The  other  class  is  the 
economists,  whose  first  interest  is  in  the  concrete  condi- 
tions by  which  they  are  surrounded,  and  who  therefore 
seek  to  understand  national  and  social  affairs  through  a 
detailed  observation  of  particular  events.  These  men  have 
keener  powers  of  observation  than  the  first  class,  but  in 
them  the  race  instincts  and  ideals  are  less  firmly  implanted. 


THE  THEORY  53 

After  a  radical  change  of  environment  the  economist 
has  an  abundance  of  new  material.  He  piles  up  immense 
stores  of  facts  which  will  be  of  little  use  if  he  be  a  mere 
observer.  But  as  old  generalizations  now  become  defec- 
tive, it  will  be  easy  to  make  new  ones  of  much  greater 
value.  He  will,  therefore,  be  induced  by  the  richness 
and  abundance  of  his  material  to  leave  the  field  to  which 
he  has  formerly  devoted  himself  and  become  a  thinker, 
and  in  the  end  a  philosopher.  A  man  of  this  kind  moves 
on  an  upward  curve  in  spite  of  himself.  He  does  not 
start  with  a  problem  and  a  method,  but  these  are  forced 
upon  him  by  his  own  progress  into  an  unexplored  field. 
He  startles  the  world  some  day  by  showing  that  he  is  a 
thinker,  and  comes  to  be  regarded  as  a  philosopher, 
although  he  is  in  reality  an  economist  gone  astray. 
Travelling  on  curves  turns  people  around  without  their 
suspecting  it. 

The  true  philosopher  under  these  conditions  has  an 
opposite  development.  He  will  also  move  on  a  curve 
that  takes  him  out  of  familiar  regions.  When  a  man  with 
strong  race  instincts  finds  himself  in  a  new  environment, 
he  misses  the  concrete  stimuli  that  aroused  his  more  vigor- 
ous motor  reactions.  Only  a  part  of  himself  is  called  into 
activity  by  the  new  conditions.  He  seeks,  therefore,  to 
find  other  concrete  stimuli  to  arouse  the  disused  motor 
reactions,  and  thus  to  regain  that  completer  self  he  had 
before.  A  man  to  be  a  complete  person  must  exist  in  a 
situation  that  arouses  all  his  potential  energies,  and  if  he 
finds  himself  in  a  situation  where  but  part  of  them  are 
active,  he  seeks  for  new  stimuli  capable  of  arousing  the 
inherited  motor  reactions.  Old  implanted  instincts  re- 
spond to  new  stimuli,  and  old  ideals  get  a  new  content. 

In  the  seventeenth  century,  for  example,  the  thought  of 
God  was  aroused  by  the  serious  calamities  then  prevalent. 
Men  saw  God  in  the  plague,  the  famines,  the  earthquake, 
the  wars,  and  other  evils.     They  always  trembled  at  the 


54  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

thought  of  Him,  and  saw  Him  only  as  a  God  of  wrath. 
In  the  next  century,  however,  these  evils,  at  least  in  their 
worst  forms,  had  passed  away.  Men  had  a  motor  reaction 
that  could  be  excited  by  the  thought  of  God,  but  they  had 
no  concrete  phenomena  of  the  old  kind  to  make  it  active. 
The  economist  under  these  conditions  talks  much  of  hap- 
piness and  gives  statistics  about  prosperity  ;  but  the  phi- 
losopher misses  the  old  stimuli  and  seeks  for  new  means 
of  arousing  the  old  motor  reactions.  To  do  this  he  must 
find  a  new  way  to  the  thought  of  God  out  of  the  mate- 
rial now  on  hand.  The  new  stimulus  is  found  in  one  of 
the  most  common  events  of  the  new  industrial  world. 
The  artisan  is  continually  producing  objects  from  the 
material  he  possesses.  These  objects,  wherever  they  go, 
reveal  the  existence  and  skill  of  the  artisan  who  made 
them.  The  philosopher  who  recognizes  these  facts  now 
sees  in  God  an  artisan  on  a  large  scale,  whose  handiwork 
is  everywhere  revealed  in  nature.  He  no  longer  needs 
earthquakes  and  famines  to  bring  up  the  thought  of  God 
and  start  his  motor  powers  into  activity.  He  finds  the 
concrete  stimuli  in  human  and  material  mechanisms,  in 
all  objects  where  an  exact  adjustment  of  parts  is  de- 
manded. Internally  this  eighteenth-century  man  is  just 
like  his  predecessor  of  the  preceding  century.  The  differ- 
ence lies  in  the  concrete  stimuli  that  arouse  his  instinc- 
tive feelings  and  longings.  The  philosopher,  therefore, 
when  he  faces  such  radical  changes  as  those  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  becomes  concrete  in  spite  of  himself.  He 
starts  on  a  curve  that  leads  him  to  the  world  of  facts,  and 
having  discovered  their  importance  he  becomes  an  econo- 
mist, poses  before  the  world  as  a  man  of  fact,  and  gets  the 
credit  of  being  a  great  observer. 

It  is  this  conjunction  of  circumstances  that  makes  a 
forward  movement  in  thought.  Philosophers  are  com- 
pelled to  become  observers,  in  order  to  get  the  facts  they 
need,  and  the  observers  are  forced  to  become  philosophers 


THE   THEOKY  55 

in  order  to  form  generalizations  in  harmony  with  the  new 
facts.  Philosophers  might  wait  for  ages  for  observers 
to  note  the  particular  facts  they  need,  and  observers 
would  wait  equally  long  if  they  waited  for  thinkers  to 
generalize  on  the  new  facts  the  observers  had  collected. 
Both  classes  are  therefore  compelled  to  change  their  occu- 
pation, and  through  the  influence  of  thinkers  on  observ- 
ers, and  observers  on  thinkers,  all  have  their  methods, 
ideas,  and  modes  of  thought  modified.  Progressive 
thought  always  moves  on  these  curves,  and  when  they 
cross  each  other  an  epoch  in  national  thought  is  ended. 
There  are  still  details  to  be  worked  out,  and  the  relation 
of  the  new  thought  to  the  old  must  be  determined,  but 
as  a  whole,  national  thought  will  be  stationary  until  a  new 
economic  environment  forces  men  to  repeat  the  process. 

If  we  view  English  thought  from  this  standpoint,  there 
are  three  clearly  defined  epochs.  In  the  first,  Hobbes 
states  the  problem  of  the  age  without  solving  it ;  Locke 
is  the  economist  on  the  upward  curve ;  Newton  is  the 
thinker  on  the  downward  curve.  In  the  second,  Mande- 
ville  states  the  problem ;  Hume  is  changed  from  an 
economist  into  a  philosopher;  and  Adam  Smith  from  a 
philosopher  into  an  economist.  The  third  epoch,  begin- 
ning with  Malthus,  ends  when  Mill  is  transformed  into  a 
philosopher,  and  Darwin  into  a  biologist. 

If  we  compare  the  work  of  the  three  thinkers  on  the 
downward  curve  with  that  of  the  three  economists  on  the 
upward  curve,  a  peculiarity  of  English  thought  is  revealed. 
The  thinkers  on  the  downward  curve  do  their  work  much 
more  thoroughly  than  the  economists  on  the  upward  curve. 
Newton,  Smith,  and  Darwin  complete  their  tasks,  leaving 
nothing  but  details  for  their  successors.  Locke,  Hume, 
and  Mill  are  not  so  successful,  and  in  each  case  there  has 
ensued  a  movement  in  continental  thought  to  complete 
what  they  failed  to  finish.  Locke  sets  problems  for  Leib- 
nitz and  Rousseau ;  Hume  awakens  Kant ;  and  Mill  has 


56  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

stimulated  a  host  of  continental  writers  both  in  logic  and 
socialism.  It  does  not  lie  in  my  plan  to  discuss  this  for- 
eign movement  in  thought  created  by  the  shortcomings 
of  English  thinkers.  It  is,  however,  necessary  to  call 
attention  to  it  for  the  explanation  it  offers  of  the  curves 
of  thought,  and  the  reason  why  continental  writers  see 
English  thinkers  only  as  the  initiators  of  their  own 
thought.  Kant  is  not  the  only  German  that  Englishmen 
have  aroused  from  "dogmatic  slumbers."  This  is  the 
peculiar  province  of  Englishmen,  and  it  will  continue  to 
be  such  as  long  as  English  economic  conditions  are  so  far 
in  advance  of  those  of  other  nations  that  new  facts  force 
themselves  upon  the  attention  of  men  in  England  sooner 
than  elsewhere.  Perhaps  in  time  Englishmen  may  be  able 
to  complete  their  own  upward  curves,  but  until  then  the 
same  relations  between  English  and  continental  thought 
will  exist. 

There  is  another  peculiarity  of  these  upward  curves 
that  is  worthy  of  attention.  They  do  not  continue  up- 
ward to  the  end,  but  after  a  certain  rise  curve  back  again 
toward  the  economic  level.  Locke  turns  back  to  write  on 
money ;  Hume,  on  social  topics ;  and  Mill  returns  from 
logic  and  political  economy  to  write  on  socialism  and 
politics.  An  economist's  interest  in  philosophy  is  not  a 
general,  abiding  interest  due  to  a  love  of  its  subject-mat- 
ter. It  is  an  interest  in  some  particular  problem  which 
has  had  its  birth  in  his  own  province.  When  this  problem 
is  solved  to  his  satisfaction,  he  returns  to  more  congenial 
fields.  This  fact  adds  to  the  difiiculty  of  correctly  inter- 
preting the  work  of  these  writers.  They  should  not  be 
judged  by  their  whole  career,  but  only  by  that  part  of  it 
which  is  represented  by  the  upward  curve. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

To  discover  the  primal  economic  conditions  which 
called  into  being  the  elementary  race  instincts,  we  must 
seek  those  simple  enduring  relations  which  have  the  vital 
importance  needed  to  arouse  reactions.  Some  of  these 
relations,  found  in  all  primitive  races,  are  so  well  known 
that  they  scarcely  need  mention,  yet  as  their  effects  on 
English  thought  and  character  are  not  obvious,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  take  them  up  somewhat  in  detail. 

One  type  of  civilization  develops  where  land  is  plenty 
and  water  scarce ;  another  where  water  is  plenty  and  land 
scarce.  Water  in  the  one  case,  land  in  the  other,  is  the 
limited  requisite  and  determines  the  character  and  direc- 
tion of  social  progress.  This  difference  of  condition  is 
made  apparent  by  contrasting  southwestern  Asia  with 
northwestern  Europe.  The  latter  is  a  region  of  almost 
perpetual  rain.  Water  is  usually  a  superfluous  article  — 
a  disutility.  Much  of  the  best  land  is  rendered  useless 
because  of  its  abundance ;  crops  are  often  damaged  by  it, 
but  seldom  by  drought.  A  growing  civilization  finds  its 
limit  in  the  lack  of  available  land.  The  great  economic 
problem  is  to  improve  the  land  by  freeing  it  of  trees, 
swamps,  and  other  results  of  copious  moisture.  Where 
the  drainage  is  well  regulated,  vegetation  is  almost  spon- 
taneous. In  southwestern  Asia,  on  the  other  hand,  where 
water  is  the  limiting  requisite,  most  of  the  land  is  a  dreary 
waste,  a  desert  dotted  by  a  few  oases.  The  thought  of 
men,  therefore,  must  be  centred  on  securing  water.  With- 
out it  crops  are  uncertain  and  perhaps  impossible.     Long 

67 


58  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

periods  of  drought  result  from  deficiencies  in  the  rainfall, 
and  periods  of  plenty  and  of  starvation  alternate  with 
considerable  regularity.  The  rainfall  is  so  uncertain  that 
men  can  do  little  to  relieve  their  situation.  Such  an 
environment  develops  hope,  patience,  and  humility.  The 
littleness  of  man  is  constantly  contrasted  with  the  great- 
ness of  the  dispensing  powers  above  him. 

In  a  more  favoured  agricultural  region,  however,  nature 
dispenses  heat  and  rain  with  such  regularity  that  man's  at- 
tention may  be  directed  to  other  matters  than  the  rainfall, 
particularly  to  such  obstacles  as  can  be  overcome.  Where 
the  limitations  to  progress,  and  especially  the  sources  of 
pain,  are  not  the  dominant  aspects  of  nature,  but  are  a 
combination  of  smaller  forces  and  obstacles,  these  can  be 
attacked  in  detail  and  removed  or  modified.  Contact  with 
the  great  forces  of  nature  over  which  man  has  no  control 
develops  a  feeling  of  helplessness  and  humility ;  contact 
with  smaller  difficulties  creates  a  temper  of  opposition. 
Wrath,  anger,  a  stubborn  resistance  to  aggression,  and  a 
vigorous  reaction  against  any  source  of  restraint  or  pain, 
thus  become  essential  instincts.  The  northern  man  con- 
quers nature,  while  the  southern  man  yields  to  it. 

This  difference  is  accentuated  by  another  closely  related 
circumstance.  The  source  of  the  food  supply  in  wet, 
wooded  regions  is  mainly  large  game,  so  vigorous  and 
often  so  fierce  that  a  single  man  cannot  hunt  it  success- 
fully. Where  men  must  act  together,  they  become  more 
social  in  their  inclinations.  Animals  that  hunt  large 
game,  like  the  dog,  develop  social  instincts,  which  those 
that  hunt  small  game,  like  the  cat,  never  display.  If  this 
be  the  case  even  among  the  lower  animals,  we  may  expect 
a  race  of  human  hunters  also  to  be  social  and  cooperative. 
If  they  are  rovers  as  well  as  hunters,  they  find  still  more 
advantage  in  cooperation,  and  develop  an  even  greater 
harmony  of  interests.  Where  success  depends  on  mutual 
help,  there  grows  up  also  a  feeling  of  the  solidarity  of 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  59 

responsibility  which  is  the  basis  of  morality.  The  causes 
of  failure  and  success  lie  within  the  group  ;  the  wrath  and 
enmity  of  the  group  are  directed  against  those  who  cause 
failure,  and  its  approval  is  given  to  those  who  bring  suc- 
cess. Certain  standards  are  acquired  obligatory  on  all, 
which  are  enforced  by  instinctive  feelings  common  to  all. 
The  feeling  of  the  solidarity  of  responsibility  thus  harmo- 
nizes with  the  tendency  to  react  strongly  and  effectively 
against  the  sources  of  pain.  The  combined  development 
of  the  whole  group  is  the  characteristic  of  the  civilization 
of  cold,  wet  countries,  where  nature  acts  with  such  regu- 
larity that  the  attention  of  men  can  be  directed  to  sec- 
ondary obstacles. 

In  the  cultivation  of  the  cereals  and  of  root  crops  we  find 
another  primal  distinction  closely  allied  to  those  already 
indicated.  The  cereals  grow  where  it  is  damp  and  wet, 
and  most  of  them  in  a  cold  climate  as  well,  for  their 
roots,  being  short,  require  a  frequent  rainfall.  As  they 
suffer  severely  in  periods  of  drought,  they  are  not  good 
crops  for  dry  regions.  Root  crops,  on  the  contrary,  pene- 
trate deeply  into  the  earth,  and  can  therefore  endure  a 
drought.  They  grow  best  in  clear  hot  weather,  and  will 
not  mature  properly  where  it  is  rainy  or  cloudy.  More- 
over, the  cereals  are  easily  transported,  while  the  root 
crops  are  so  bulky  and  perishable  that  they  must  be 
consumed  near  where  they  are  grown.  Now  a  movable 
surplus  is  necessary  to  any  extensive  civilization.  States 
must  remain  small  and  provincial  until  they  find  a  food 
product  capable  of  transportation.  It  might  be  said  that 
the  radius  of  an  empire  is  fixed  by  the  distance  that  its 
food  products  can  be  transported.  If  a  nation  extends 
its  boundaries  beyond  such  limits,  it  soon  becomes  unstable 
and  falls  apart.  Since  a  conquering  nation  exists  by  the 
tribute  it  exacts,  this  tribute  naturally  takes  the  form  of 
the  movable  surplus  of  the  conquered  countries.  The 
cereals   become   the   tribute   money  that   the   conquered 


60  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

pay  to  their  conquerors.  Root  crops,  as  they  must  be 
consumed  near  home,  become  the  food  of  the  con- 
quered. The  value  of  a  locality  to  its  conquerors  is 
measured  by  the  amount  of  its  product  that  can  be 
carried  away. 

When  both  cereals  and  root  crops  are  produced,  a  so- 
ciety is  formed  having  two  distinct  national  characters, 
the  tribute-takers  and  the  tribute-givers.  In  cold,  wet 
countries,  where  the  cereals  alone  are  produced,  society 
remains  homogeneous,  and  common  standards  are  re- 
tained; but  in  warm,  dry  regions  the  possibility  of  forcing 
the  cultivators  to  live  upon  root  crops  opens  up  an  in- 
viting field  for  invasion  and  conquest. 

This  fact  provokes  the  frequent  migration  of  nations 
from  cold  to  hot  climates.  Character  and  energy  are 
formed  by  the  conditions  of  the  north.  A  large  movable 
surplus  is  to  be  found  only  in  the  south.  These  two 
essential  conditions  to  civilization  can  be  brought  to- 
gether only  by  migrations  from  the  cold,  wet  north, 
where  there  is  energy  without  a  surplus,  to  the  dry, 
warm  regions  of  the  south,  where  there  is  a  large  surplus 
but  no  energy. 

The  ruling  class  so  formed  develops  and  retains  certain 
motor  reactions  to  make  its  rule  enduring,  and  these  traits 
become  a  part  of  the  mental  inheritance  of  subsequent 
ages ;  for  a  large  organization  cannot  be  maintained  with- 
out developing  an  instinctive  love  of  law  and  order. 
Rules  once  made  must  be  adhered  to,  and  leaders  once 
chosen  must  be  implicitly  obeyed.  Before  a  nation  can 
enter  upon  a  period  of  conquest,  obedience  to  recognized 
authorities,  subordination  to  leaders,  and  love  of  internal 
peace  must  become  dominant  traits.  A  nation  of  good 
fighters  must  entertain  a  respect  for  property  and  a  feel- 
ing of  equality.  A  man  fights  best  with  his  peers,  and  no 
body  of  peers  that  do  not  regard  each  other's  property 
rights  can  hold  together.     They  may  dispossess  the  con- 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     61 

quered  without  scruple,  but  they  must  respect  each  other's 
rights. 

The  ruling  class  in  a  large  nation  must  also  develop  a 
sense  of  equity.  Tribute-takers  live  off  the  proceeds  of 
other  people's  industry,  and  the  conditions  that  keep  these 
people  industrious  must  be  respected.  To  crush  the  sub- 
ject is  to  stop  the  tribute.  So  rulers  set  limits  to  their 
own  aggression.  When,  in  addition,  they  become  masters 
of  many  localities  with  differing  local  traditions,  laws 
must  be  devised  to  promote  intercourse  between  their 
dependencies.  A  higher  equity  thus  arises  from  the 
amalgamation  and  generalization  of  various  local  usages, 
and  respect  for  the  law  becomes  innate. 

To  retain  its  superiority,  the  dominant  class  must  also 
maintain  a  sharp  distinction  between  its  members  and 
those  of  the  subject  class.  In  a  developed  form  this  dis- 
tinction creates  a  ruling  class  founded  on  material  wealth. 
The  difference  upon  which  success  originally  depended, 
however,  was  one  of  character,  and  not  of  property  or 
inheritance. 

Professor  Giddings  has  made  familiar  another  charac- 
teristic,—  the  consciousness  of  kind.  This  instinct  to 
recognize  likeness,  to  honour  as  equals  those  who  have 
the  same  mental  qualities,  and  to  shun  others  is  necessary 
to  any  ruling  class.  Nations  that  have  it  also  possess  a 
more  or  less  developed  concept  of  citizenship.  They 
accord  freely  certain  rights  to  those  whom  they  recognize 
as  being  of  their  kind,  and  deny  these  rights  to  others. 
Citizenship  is  at  bottom  a  quality  of  character  depending 
on  the  recognition  of  a  consciousness  of  kind.  It  creates, 
or  at  least  renders  effective,  the  fighting  qualities  that 
bring  success.  The  distinctions  in  regard  to  property 
that  come  after  success  may  efface  or  dwarf  the  feeling  of 
citizenship,  and  thus  create  an  aristocracy  or  a  caste,  but 
we  should  remember  that  the  earlier  society  was  based  on 
a  superiority  of  character.     A  progressive,  energetic  race 


62  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

naturally  becomes  a  sociocracy1  in  which  character  is 
judged  by  race  qualities  or  ties  of  blood.  In  this  way  a 
line  is  drawn  between  the  superior  who  is  a  freeman,  and 
the  inferior  who  is  not.  A  group  of  freemen  or  citizens 
are  democratic  among  themselves,  but  when  they  come  in 
contact  with  inferiors  they  rule,  as  well  as  work  or  fight. 
Therefore,  among  them  there  exists  a  sense  of  superiority 
without  which  no  nation  could  become  conquerors,  rulers, 
or  industrial  leaders.  The  sociocracy,  to  which  the  con- 
cept of  citizenship  is  due,  assumes  many  forms,  but  always 
comes  when  income  is  acquired  and  not  earned. 

Tribute-takers  and  plunderers  feel  themselves  to  be  an 
especially  favoured  class,  and  they  attribute  this  to  their 
own  merits,  to  their  ancestors,  or  to  God.  When  a  tribe 
calls  its  members  the  sons  of  a  great  chief,  or  of  a  god,  it 
implies  that  its  members  are  specially  favoured  because  of 
their  sonship.  To  be  sons  in  this  sense  involves  having 
tributary  dependents.  The  Hebrews,  for  example,  when 
they  were  a  pastoral  tribe,  worshipped  the  Elohim,  who 
was  not  attached  to  places  or  persons;  but  when,  after 
their  return  from  Egypt,  they  became  aggressors,  plun- 
derers, and  conquerors,  they  worshipped  Jehovah,  who 
made  them  a  favoured  nation.  The  Hebrew  sociocracy 
which  thus  arose  gave  to  the  nation  many  of  its  peculiar 
traits.  The  Hebrew  became  superior  to  the  Gentile,  just 
as  later  the  Greek  did  to  the  barbarian.  Tribute-taking 
always  has  the  same  effect  on  the  national  thought :  it 
transforms  the  nation  into  a  favoured  body,  and  ends  in 
creating  a  citizenship  and  a  body  of  privileges  from  which 
the  lower  classes  are  excluded.     When  the  power  to  seize 

1 1  use  this  term  to  represent  an  actual  social  state,  and  not,  as 
Mr  Ward  does  in  Lis  Outlines  of  Sociology,  to  represent  an  ideal  one. 
A  sociocracy  exists  when  the  more  social  elements  in  any  way  exploit  the 
less  social.  A  primitive  clan,  a  guild  of  the  Middle  Ages,  a  modern 
trades-union,  and  the  present  organizations  of  political  parties  furnish 
examples  of  sociocracies  in  the  sense  in  which  I  use  the  term. 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     63 

is  esteemed  more  than  the  power  to  earn,  a  body  of  law- 
will  grow  up  that  respects  the  former  more  than  the  latter. 
Law  is  more  than  a  collection  of  customs  —  it  is  custom 
idealized  by  the  transition  from  a  state  of  earning  income 
to  that  of  taking  tribute.  Neither  the  customs  of  the  con- 
querors, nor  of  the  conquered,  are  adequate.  The  law 
aims  at  securing  peace,  not  justice.  Hence,  property 
rights  are  vested  in  things  possessed,  not  in  things  earned. 
These  concepts  of  peace  and  obedience  do  not  come 
naturally  to  people  living  in  hot,  dry  countries,  where 
nature  is  arbitrary.  They  acquire  hope  and  humility 
from  their  environment,  but  the  instincts  of  peace  and 
obedience  are  embedded  only  after  they  become  subject  to 
foreign  powers,  and  tribute-givers.  A  people  living  in 
a  capricious  environment  look  upon  the  world  as  a  place 
of  sorrow  and  tribulation.  As  their  privations  seem  to 
be  due  to  their  shortcomings,  they  develop  readily  the 
concept  of  sin  and  of  a  fallen  nature.  But  peace  they  do 
not  look  for,  and  obedience  they  do  not  yield.  On  the 
contrary,  they  have  inclinations  toward  a  life  of  asceticism 
and  individual  freedom.  Among  these  people  there  is  no 
powerful  priesthood  and  no  concept  of  God  except  as  a 
being  to  fear  and  avoid,  for  those  that  serve  God  think  of 
Him  as  a  social  being  who  rewards  as  well  as  punishes. 
The  native  gods  of  regions  where  nature  is  capricious  do 
nothing  but  punish,  and  hence  do  not  give  peace  or 
demand  obedience.  It  requires,  therefore,  a  double  set 
of  conditions  to  develop  the  group  of  concepts  we  call 
religious.  These  concepts  unite  only  when  a  tribute- 
taking  nation,  with  a  developed  law,  superimposes  peace 
and  obedience  upon  a  nation  that  nature  has  made  hope- 
ful, humble,  and  conscious  of  its  shortcomings.  Such 
people  accept  a  ruling  class  readily,  and  give  tribute  cheer- 
fully, as  though  it  were  an  enactment  of  nature.  Under 
these  conditions,  a  class  of  dingers  is  created  who  look 
up  to  their  superiors,  are  hero-worshippers,  and  feel  lost 


64  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

when  they  have  no  guiding  hand  to  direct  them.  When 
these  instincts  and  conditions  become  idealized,  a  purer 
religion  follows,  with  a  God  who  rules  as  well  as  pun- 
ishes. 

This  study  of  primitive  races  shows  that  their  instincts 
are  due  mainly  to  three  groups  of  economic  conditions. 
In  wet,  cold  countries,  natural  forces  act  regularly,  and 
the  social  surplus  is  small.  Here  men  unite  into  strongly 
knit  social  groups,  with  a  well-developed  feeling  of  the 
solidarity  of  responsibility.  Vigorous  and  aggressive,  they 
react  promptly  against  sources  of  pain.  In  hot,  dry  coun- 
tries natural  forces  are  too  irregular  and  overpowering 
to  permit  the  idea  of  a  natural  law  to  develop.  People 
yield  to  forces  they  cannot  resist  or  regulate  ;  their  trust 
in  the  higher  power  that  they  believe  controls  nature 
produces  hope  and  humility.  Tribute-takers  create  a 
third  group  of  instincts.  Where  a  movable  surplus 
makes  large  nations  possible,  a  sociocracy  forms,  which 
develops  law  and  creates  the  concept  of  citizenship.  The 
first  group  of  conditions  gives  the  basis  of  morality,  the 
second  that  of  religion,  and  the  third  that  of  civil  rights. 
These  three  groups  of  instincts  and  their  resulting  habits 
of  thought  correspond  in  a  general  way  to  the  differences 
which  distinguish  the  German,  the  Semitic,  and  the  Roman 
civilizations.  No  one  of  these  civilizations,  however,  is 
of  a  pure  type  ;  for  each  of  these  groups  of  instincts  is 
developed  to  some  degree  in  all  three  races.  The  main 
thing  is  to  determine  which  of  these  is  the  fundamental 
group  to  which  the  type  will  revert  when  a  period  of 
transition  permits  the  ultimate  instincts  to  assert  them- 
selves. If  a  German  civilization  reverts  towards  morality, 
a  Semitic  towards  religion,  and  a  Roman  towards  civic 
duties  and  rights,  they  are  distinct  enough  to  be  used  as 
types  of  the  primal  economic  instincts  which  are  to  be 
found  in  a  more  or  less  developed  state  in  all  nations. 
The  development  of  these  three  civilizations  is  also  of 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     65 

especial  value  in  the  study  of  English  thought,  because 
it  is  from  them  that  the  English  have  acquired  their  main 
characteristics. 

The  character  of  the  early  German  was  due  mainly  to 
the  influence  of  the  damp,  cold  climate  in  which  he  lived, 
and  the  meagre  food  products  upon  which  he  subsisted. 
He  was  little  influenced  by  outside  ideas.  The  non- 
migrating  German  is  the  ancestor  of  the  German  of  the 
later  period ;  for  the  migrating  Germans  are  lost  or 
blended  with  the  races  they  conquered.  All  accounts 
agree  that  the  early  Germans  had  vigorous  constitutions 
and  strong  appetites.  A  cold,  damp  climate  necessitates 
a  large  consumption  of  food,  for  people  who  live  out  of 
doors  keep  warm  by  eating.  The  internal  combustion  of 
oxygen  and  carbon  must  be  increased  when  it  is  cold  and 
damp,  and  still  further  augmented  if  the  shelter  and  cloth- 
ing is  poor  and  meagre.  The  appetites  of  the  Germans, 
vigorous  because  of  their  environment,  were  strengthened 
also  by  self-imposed  hardships.  They  seem  to  have  bathed 
in  icy  water,  and  to  have  prided  themselves  on  their  power 
to  endure  all  sorts  of  exposure.  Under  such  conditions 
only  those  can  survive  who  have  strong  appetites.  But 
sensuality  is  not  a  vice  until  men  come  into  economic  con- 
ditions where  they  can  eat  more  than  the  internal  fire  can 
consume.  It  is  the  clogging  of  over-nutrition  that  causes 
the  degeneration  against  which  men  in  improved  economic 
conditions  must  guard  themselves. 

Where  climate  and  habits  cause  a  high  death-rate,  strong 
passions  are  needed  to  keep  up  the  population.  And  as 
the  suffering  falls  mainly  on  the  weak,  a  selective  process 
goes  on  which  raises  the  standard,  keeps  the  social  group 
intact,  and  prevents  that  opposition  of  interests  resulting 
from  an  over-population.  There  are  three  ways  in  which 
an  equilibrium  between  population  and  the  food  supply  is 
maintained.      First,  by  pressing   against  nature   as   the 


66  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

Germans  did,  so  that  the  weak  and  inefficient  fail  to  ful- 
fil the  conditions  for  living.  Second,  by  pressing  against 
men  ;  in  this  way  wars,  feuds,  and  individual  conflicts 
carry  off  the  surplus  population.  Here  the  strong,  rather 
than  the  weak,  are  killed  off,  and  the  race  degenerates. 
Third,  by  pressing  against  disease,  as  when  men,  in  search 
of  food  and  comfort,  move  into  unhealthy  regions  where 
the  economic  surplus  is  large,  and  pay  the  penalty  in  the 
suffering  that  disease  causes.  As  this  evil  strikes  indis- 
criminately, no  selective  elimination  results  ;  society  re- 
mains stationary,  and  its  standards  are  low. 

In  Germany  the  equilibrium  of  population  was  main- 
tained by  the  first  of  these  means.  The  German  character 
has  few  of  those  traits  which  war  and  disease  create.  Ger- 
mans are  noted  for  the  ease  with  which  they  lose  their 
nationality  ;  having  no  strong  hatreds,  they  amalgamate 
easily  with  other  nations,  and  are  without  clannish  ties. 
These  characteristics  imply  that  the  early  struggle  was 
not  between  man  and  man,  but  between  man  and  nature. 
Nor  do  the  Germans  show  that  hopeful  fatalism  which  men 
acquire  where  nature  is  arbitrary,  and  rational  action 
affords  no  protection  against  natural  evils.  Their  migra- 
tions seem  to  have  been  actuated,  not  by  starvation,  but  by 
greed.  The  rich  border-lands  offered  to  these  sensualists 
a  temptation  that  they  could  not  resist. 

The  non-migrating  German  thus  had  broad  areas  within 
which  to  roam,  and  was  not  checked  by  conflict  between 
groups.  No  contest  could  arise  over  a  concentrated 
economic  surplus.  Each  group  was  in  this  way  self- 
centred,  and,  if  the  standards  of  the  group  were  main- 
tained, could  succeed.  The  fight  with  nature  demands 
social  solidarity,  and  to  maintain  this  the  solidarity  of 
responsibility  must  be  keenly  felt.  A  moral  tone  results, 
which  imposes  severe  penalties  on  those  that  violate  the 
social  standards. 

The  religion  of  the  early  Germans  was  little  more  than 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     67 

personified  nature.  Their  environment  lacked  the  con- 
ditions giving  rise  to  those  peculiar  concepts  which  make 
religion  a  force.  Servility,  humility,  and  sin  were  unde- 
veloped concepts.  Innocent  greed  and  a  love  of  free- 
dom were  dominant  passions,  while  a  dislike  of  town  life 
kept  the  population  from  concentrating.  There  was, 
therefore,  no  concept  of  the  luxury  that  an  economic  sur- 
plus brings,  nor  of  the  civic  unity  that  precedes  the 
thought  of  a  ruling  God.  Surplus  and  luxury  make 
states  ;  the  pomp  and  dignity  of  rulers  help  men  to  pict- 
ure a  heavenly  kingdom  and  an  omnipotent  ruler.  The 
early  Germans  knew  neither  places  of  terror  from  which 
to  build  a  concept  of  hell,  nor  a  developed  civilization  from 
which  to  construct  the  ideal  of  heaven.  Had  they  thought 
of  heaven,  they  would  have  pictured  it  as  a  "  happy  hunt- 
ing-ground "  rather  than  as  a  large  city  paved  with  rubies 
and  diamonds.  Men  must  know  luxury  before  they  can 
appreciate  the  beauties  of  a  new  Jerusalem.  It  is  often 
forgotten  how  great  an  influence  marked  contrasts  had  on 
the  formation  of  religious  ideals.  The  contrast  of  a  para- 
dise and  a  purgatory  would  not  occur  except  in  a  country 
where  there  were  a  few  oases  of  great  fertility,  compared 
with  many  dreary  wastes  burned  by  torrid  heat,  and  swept 
by  fearful  storms.  In  arid  regions  gardens  of  Eden  are  a 
present  reality,  and  also  burning  hells  that  inflict  endless 
suffering,  but  not  death.  In  such  countries  heat  and  fire 
are  God-made  phenomena. 

To  a  German,  living  where  it  is  cold  and  wet,  fire  is  a 
manifestation  of  man's  power.  Since  heat  is  man-made, 
it  cannot  bring  to  the  German  the  same  thoughts  that  it 
brought  to  the  Semites.  Cold,  wet  countries  have  too 
much  dull  uniformity  to  suggest  the  contrasts  that  are 
transformed  into  religious  ideals.  In  such  conditions 
punishments  are  social,  not  physical ;  men  become  out- 
casts and  outlaws,  but  not  tortured  criminals.  The  burn- 
ing of  men  is  felt  to  be  an  act  of  injustice,  for  fire  is  thought 


68  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  as  man-made,  and  to  torture  with  it  is  the  work  not  of 
God  but  of  bad  men.  Men  of  northern  morality  naturally 
react  against  the  causes  of  physical  pain,  and  have  a  feel- 
ing of  repugnance  for  schemes  that  make  it  a  means  of 
purification. 

A  study  of  the  social  condition  and  mental  state  of  the 
early  Germans  will  disclose  what  ideas  and  habits  sprang 
from  their  own  environment  and  what  arose  as  a  result  of 
contact  with  the  Roman  and  Semitic  civilizations.  This 
later  and  external  influence  was  mainly  exerted  through 
the  Church  ;  its  history  and  development  show  how  the 
new  ideas  and  habits  of  thought  were  acquired.  The 
Church  itself  had  been  formed  by  the  amalgamation  of 
Semitic  and  Roman  ideas.  In  the  beginning,  while  the 
Semitic  ideas  dominated,  the  Church  was  primarily  a 
religious  institution,  but  as  it  became  more  definitely 
organized  under  the  Popes,  the  civil  side  of  the  Church 
gradually  predominated.  This  change  of  emphasis  was 
the  natural  result  of  the  disturbed  social  conditions  :  the 
Church  took  part  in  the  political  contests,  and  guided 
the  weaker  civil  powers.  It  became  a  civil  institution 
to  save  society  from  complete  disorganization. 

In  the  early  centuries  of  the  Christian  era,  the  line 
between  the  civil  and  the  religious  sphere  was  very 
loosely  drawn,  because  of  the  influence  of  Hebrew  ideas 
and  precedents.  The  Hebrews  surrendered  to  their  con- 
querors only  a  few  of  the  civil  functions,  most  of  them 
being  still  administered  by  the  local,  which  meant  the 
religious,  authorities.  The  Hebrews  always  looked  for- 
ward to  the  time  when  the  local  religious  authorities 
would  again  be  entirely  supreme.  When  Christianity 
arose,  this  state  of  affairs  had  great  weight  in  forming 
the  ideas  of  the  Church  fathers,  who  submitted  to  the 
powers  that  were,  and  willingly  gave  unto  Csesar  the 
things    that  were    Caesar's,  but  had  very  hazy  ideas  as 


THE   ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  69 

to  what  was  Caesar's  and  what  was  God's.  Thus,  the 
relation  that  grew  up  between  the  Christian  Church  and 
the  Roman  Empire  was  much  the  same  as  that  which  had 
existed  between  the  Hebrew  Church  and  State.  It  was  a 
state  within  a  state.  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  say 
that  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor  divided  the  sovereignty 
between  them,  each  becoming  the  dominant  element  as 
time  and  circumstances  favoured  him.  The  victory  of  the 
Church  of  Rome  over  the  more  democratic  churches  of 
earlier  days  was  due  to  the  need  of  order  and  authority. 
The  great  ecclesiastical  hierarchy  that  the  Roman  Church 
established  was  not  designed  to  promote  spiritual  aims, 
but  to  secure  harmony,  order,  and  peace.  From  the 
very  beginning  the  Bishops  of  Rome,  avoiding  theological 
questions,  devoted  themselves  to  matters  of  organization 
and  administration.  They  always  stood  for  authority  and 
subordination;  they  taught  humility  and  submission  as 
the  cardinal  virtues.  In  a  struggle  between  inspiration 
and  revelation  on  the  one  hand,  and  law  and  order  on  the 
other,  the  Roman  Church  won,  because  the  civil  needs  of 
the  age  were  more  pressing  than  the  spiritual.  Thus,  by 
placing  order  and  discipline  above  feeling  and  liberty,  the 
Roman  Church  established  the  supremacy  of  Christianity 
in  Europe,  but  this  emphasis  of  civil  ends  was  at  the 
expense  of  some  of  the  best  elements  in  Christianity.  A 
reformation  was  to  be  expected  as  soon  as  the  demand 
for  peace  and  order  had  been  satisfied.  Institutions  that 
have  for  their  main  end  the  establishment  of  law  and 
order  are  in  reality  civil,  no  matter  what  name  they  bear. 
Churches  doubtless  need  some  kind  of  an  organization, 
but  in  so  far  as  they  subordinate  religious  to  governmen- 
tal ends,  they  are  civil  institutions,  and  should  be  judged 
by  civil  and  not  by  religious  standards. 

It  is  necessary  to  bear  these  circumstances  in  mind  if 
one  would  judge  impartially  the  influence  of  the  Church 
in  Germany  and  other  northern  countries.     When  these 


70  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

countries  accepted  Christianity,  the  Church  had  already 
become  a  political  power  and  had  lost  much  of  its  early 
spirituality.  The  dispersed  population  of  the  cold,  wet 
north  needed  discipline  more  than  inspiration  and  revela- 
tion, and  hence  the  Roman  Church  was  able  to  do  for  it 
what  scattered  missionary  effort  had  failed  to  do.  A 
steady,  severe  discipline  continuing  for  several  centuries 
stirred  up  new  motor  reactions,  which  had  been  absent  in 
earlier  times.  The  qualities  of  the  Roman  and  the  Semite 
were  thus  grafted  on  a  new  stock,  and  as  a  result  we  have 
the  complex  mental  mechanism  of  the  modern  man,  with 
the  independent  motor  reactions  of  a  Roman,  a  Semite, 
and  a  German. 

The  supremacy  of  the  Church  in  northern  regions  was 
not  the  result  of  a  conversion,  but  of  an  economic  pressure 
by  which  new  motor  reactions  were  formed.  The  Church 
succeeded,  not  as  a  spiritual  power,  but  as  an  economic 
force.  For  conversion  takes  place  when  old  impulses  are 
turned  to  some  new  use.  The  Germans  had  no  motor 
reactions  that  prompted  them  to  be  obedient,  reverent, 
and  servile.  They  loved  liberty  and  freedom  too  well  to 
submit  tamely  to  an  oppressive  discipline.  The  old  gods 
had  not  ruled  with  a  heavy  hand  nor  demanded  humble 
submission  as  the  price  of  prosperity.  Arbitrary  gods 
who  follow  their  own  sweet  wills  do  not  prevent  mortals 
from  following  their  inclinations.  It  was  only  a  new 
economic  pressure  that  could  impose  the  qualities  that  the 
new  civilization  demanded,  and  the  northern  nations  had 
to  submit  to  it  for  many  weary  ages,  before  their  primal 
inclinations  could  assert  themselves. 

In  picturing  the  early  Church  we  are  wont  to  think  only 
of  the  ecclesiastical  organization  that  represented  its  civil 
side,  and  to  overlook  the  monastic  orders  that  represent  its 
economic  side.  The  modern  concept  of  dark,  gloomy  build- 
ings filled  with  men  who  spend  their  time  in  prayer,  medi- 
tation, and  fasting,  keeps  us  from  realizing  the  functions  of 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     71 

the  early  monasteries.  Only  after  their  industrial  func- 
tion had  ceased  were  the  monasteries  filled  by  the  recluses, 
who  are  now  associated  with  monastic  life.  The  early 
monks  were  not  supported  by  the  laity,  but  were,  rather, 
industrial  undertakers  whose  enterprise  set  the  pattern  for 
others  to  follow.  The  balance  sheet  between  them  and  the 
outside  world  was  largely  in  their  favour.  A  short-sighted 
race,  living  from  hand  to  mouth,  had  much  to  suffer,  if  not 
relieved  by  the  forethought  and  kindly  care  of  those  who 
followed  a  more  orderly  life. 

The  early  monasteries,  then,  were  not  religious  organiza- 
tions, but  agricultural  colonies  with  socialistic  tendencies. 
They  did  for  the  country  what  the  guilds  of  the  Middle 
Ages  did  for  the  town.  Before  their  time  north  Europe 
was  a  dreary  waste  covered  with  woods,  swamps,  and  moors 
with  openings  here  and  there  where  a  few  half-starved 
people  were  huddled  in  miserable  hovels.  No  regular 
industry  existed,  many  people  did  not  even  know  how  to 
fish,  and  hunting  without  horses  gave  but  a  precarious 
support.  Into  these  regions  the  missionaries  forced  their 
way,  and  they  succeeded,  not  by  preaching  doctrines,  but 
by  teaching  the  natives  regular  ways  of  life.  The  suc- 
cessful missionary  was  thus  the  monk  who  earned  his  own 
living  and  had  enough  surplus  to  help  others  in  times  of 
need.  Doubtless  the  monks  had  a  religious  motive,  but 
their  love  of  solitude  and  quiet  industry  was  an  even 
stronger  motive.  They  did  not,  therefore,  push  out  and 
proselytize  as  modern  missionaries  do ;  they  drew  the 
natives  to  them  by  the  bounties  they  dispensed.  There  is 
no  proof  of  God's  power  more  convincing  to  a  primitive 
mind  than  the  sight  of  food  provided  for  the  hungry  and 
of  relief  given  the  distressed.  A  new  economic  regime 
thus  began,  which  endowed  the  northern  races  with  new 
industrial  qualities. 

These  monks  accomplished  the  agricultural  transforma- 
tion of  England  and  Germany.     To  them  work  was  wor- 


72  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

ship,  and  they  followed  their  toilsome  worship  so  faithfully 
that  great  forests  were  cut  down,  swamps  drained,  and 
tractless  wilds  brought  under  cultivation.  The  transfer 
and  readjustment  of  population  changed  the  whole  face  of 
the  country.  These  monastic  colonies  were  not  under 
strict  rules  like  the  modern  religious  orders,  but  were  a 
loosely  organized  family  or  clan,  often  headed  by  some 
noble  who  sought  in  retirement  to  pay  penance  for  youth- 
ful misdeeds.  Often  these  colonies  were  mere  pretexts 
to  escape  from  taxation  and  the  burdens  of  military  ser- 
vice. Again  they  were  centres  of  refuge  for  those  who 
were  harassed  by  warlike  neighbours,  for  these  social  settle- 
ments had  a  sanctity  that  gave  peace  and  safety  in  the 
midst  of  wars  and  internal  strife.  Thus  many  motives 
helped  their  growth,  all  of  which  were  necessary  to  stimu- 
late an  industrial  transformation  and  to  inspire  a  love  for 
steady  work  and  for  the  quiet  pleasures  of  an  industrial 
life.  Doubtless  these  religious  brothers  were  good  livers, 
and  perhaps  even  sensual,  but  if  so,  it  was  at  a  time  when 
feasting  and  sensualism  were  necessary  inducements  to 
industry. 

Between  the  Church  and  these  monastic  colonies  the 
bond  was  very  loose  ;  they  were  more  often  opponents 
than  allies.  The  monks  represented  the  missionary  ele- 
ment in  the  Church,  and  numbered  among  them  all  the 
discontented,  restless  spirits.  As  the  Roman  Church 
stood  for  law  and  order,  they  stood  for  zeal,  inspiration, 
and  direct  revelation.  The  early  missionaries  in  England 
came  from  Ireland,  not  from  Rome,  and  the  Irish  Church,  for 
a  long  time  independent  of  Rome,  emphasized  the  spiritual 
rather  than  the  civil  ends  of  religion.  English  missionaries 
in  turn  converted  north  Germany,  and  carried  with  them 
the  spirit  and  methods  of  the  Irish.  The  early  Church  of 
northern  Europe  emphasized  the  economic  and  social  side 
of  life  far  more  than  the  civil.  Even  after  the  authority 
of  Rome  was  generally  acknowledged,  its  control  over  the 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  73 

monasteries  was  slight  and  spasmodic.  Only  at  the  death 
of  a  prior  or  abbot  could  it  interfere,  and  then  merely 
to  appoint  his  successor.  Activity  and  enterprise  were 
domestic.  People  turned  to  Rome  to  decide  disputes,  not 
policies,  and  its  hand  was  felt  only  when  success  had 
given  something  to  dispute  over.  Centuries  were  to  pass 
before  the  Pope  and  his  officials  could  interfere  in  the 
details  of  monastic  life  and  lay  down  rules  for  its  govern- 
ment. The  supposed  peace  and  harmony  of  the  Church 
of  the  Middle  Ages  is  a  mere  myth.  There  were  constant 
struggles  between  the  various  orders  of  the  monks,  and 
again  between  them  and  the  representatives  of  the  Pope's 
power.  The  civil  Church  centred  in  Rome  was  imposed 
from  above  upon  the  semi-independent  and  more  or  less 
turbulent  local  organizations  whose  energy  had  extended 
the  influence  of  Christianity.  Rome  did  not  create  any- 
thing. It  simply  brought  order  and  peace  to  an  already 
successful  movement. 

We  should  have  a  better  notion  of  the  Middle  Ages  if 
we  would  picture  the  monks  and  other  religious  bodies  as 
related  to  one  another  somewhat  as  are  the  Protestant 
sects  of  modern  times.  There  was  the  same  diversity,  the 
same  controversy,  the  same  opposition  of  interests.  New 
orders  were  developed  to  meet  new  emergencies,  just  as 
the  Salvation  Army  and  other  organizations  now  arise. 
The  difference  is  that  the  mediaeval  litigants  referred  to 
Rome  disputes  of  the  kind  that  now  find  their  way  into 
the  civil  courts. 

The  heterogeneous  character  of  the  early  Church,  espe- 
cially the  contrast  between  the  local  religious  life  and  the 
centralized  power  at  Rome,  has  been  lost  sight  of  be- 
cause the  local  orders  have  been  suppressed  or  shorn  of 
their  wealth  and  power.  The  monks  were  called  the 
regular  clergy  ;  the  representatives  of  the  Pope  who  ad- 
ministered directly  in  his  name  were  called  the  secular 
clergy.     The  latter  were  organized  only  after  the  former 


74  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

had  made  many  converts,  and  the  need  of  more  definite 
organization  had  shown  itself.  The  regular  clergy  were 
the  converting  force  because  their  example  and  productive 
power  made  Christianity  attractive.  The  secular  clergy 
were  the  commanding  force.  They  ruled  in  given  regions, 
compelled  every  one  to  conform  to  church  usages,  and 
created  that  uniformity  and  harmony  which  later  was  so 
marked  a  characteristic  of  the  Church.  The  Church  thus 
had  two  distinct  social  aims,  the  one  civil  and  the  other 
economic.  The  regular  clergy  cared  for  the  economic 
wants  of  the  people.  They  improved  agriculture,  fed  and 
sheltered  the  poor,  founded  hospitals  and  gave  relief  from 
pain.  The  secular  clergy  cared  for  the  civil  wants  of  the 
Church.  They  organized  a  hierarchy  which  gave  peace 
and  instilled  obedience.  The  Church  lacked,  however, 
corresponding  moral  agencies.  Certain  religious  orders 
and  many  individuals,  to  be  sure,  furnished  models  worthy 
of  imitation,  but  these  standards  were  not  enforced  by 
the  authority  of  the  Church.  Herein  lay  its  weakness 
and  the  cause  of  its  disruption. 

We  should  not  conclude,  however,  that  the  Church  was 
consciously  an  economic  institution.  The  Church  fathers 
had  only  religious  ends  in  mind ;  they  had  no  economic 
programme  except  such  as  was  forced  upon  them  by  the 
situation  in  which  they  found  themselves.  But  as  the 
religious  transformation  could  not  be  accomplished  with- 
out marked  industrial  changes,  they  met  each  new  situation 
with  new  economic  measures.  In  this  way  they  created 
an  economic  programme  in  spite  of  themselves,  and  in 
time  this  programme  so  dominated  the  Church  as  to  turn 
it  into  an  economic  organization.  It  is  plain,  for  example, 
that  the  early  monks  did  not  plan  an  agricultural  trans- 
formation of  northern  Europe.  Desiring  isolation  and 
seclusion,  they  sought  the  depths  of  the  forests,  where  the 
normal  life  they  led,  to  the  exclusion  of  other  forms  of 
activity,  aroused  motives   that   found   expression   in   an 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     75 

industrial  life.  The  dignity  the  monks  gave  to  labour 
came  not  from  any  preconceived  ambition  to  set  a  new 
pattern  for  living,  but  simply  from  a  desire  for  activity 
which  could  find  no  other  outlet.  Success  made  the  imi- 
tation of  their  ways  both  possible  and  necessary,  and  thus 
a  new  concept  of  life  grew  up  which  has  left  its  impress 
upon  subsequent  ages. 

A  marked  influence  in  this  direction  came  from  the 
emphasis  on  a  future  life.  The  northern  races  had  no 
contrasts  out  of  which  the  great  religious  ideals  could 
grow.  Differences  in  time  were  not  impressed  upon 
them  as  they  were  on  races  in  regions  where  famine  and 
plenty  alternate.  They  had  hazy  ideas  of  every  time  but 
the  present,  and  no  strong  motive  to  think  of  other  than 
immediate  needs.  The  ideal  of  a  future  life,  so  vividly 
set  forth  by  the  missionaries,  created  a  contrast  equally 
useful  as  an  incentive  in  this  world  and  as  a  preparation 
for  the  next;  for  thrift  and  accumulation  of  capital  depend 
upon  the  same  motor  reactions  that  make  vivid  the  differ- 
ence between  the  present  and  future  life,  and  similar  pains 
and  punishments  follow  a  neglect  in  either  case.  The  one 
ideal  cannot  be  thoroughly  inculcated  without  the  creation 
of  the  other.  Thrift  and  economy  were  thus  encouraged 
by  the  Church,  to  the  increase  of  capital  and  enterprise. 

Another  incentive  to  industry  came  from  the  new  doc- 
trine of  the  sacredness  of  life.  Even  with  a  high  birth- 
rate, population  will  not  increase  unless  there  is  a  motive 
to  preserve  the  young.  This  motive  was  created  by  the 
thought  that  children  had  souls  and  that  an  early  death 
deprived  them  of  the  hope  of  eternal  life.  Infant  damna- 
tion may  be  a  hideous  doctrine,  but  it  had  the  effect  of 
making  parents  care  for  their  children,  and  thus  stimu- 
lated their  industry.  The  pressure  of  population  is  the 
great  inducement  to  work  and  the  prime  cause  of  the 
elimination  of  the  unfit.  No  society  can  advance  without 
some  force  of  this  kind.     A  religious  doctrine  seemingly 


76  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

opposed  to  social  morality  thus  became  an  agent  of 
progress. 

The  family  groups  were  much  larger  in  early  times 
than  they  now  are.  There  was  no  age  limit  after  which 
sons  and  daughters  became  their  own  masters.  The  fam- 
ily, with  the  addition  of  many  dependents  and  followers, 
held  together  as  long  as  the  father  lived.  Where  ties  of 
clan  and  tribe  were  strong,  the  whole  group  was  practi- 
cally one  family,  and  had  many  common  rights  and  duties. 
The  family  was  thus  a  political  and  an  industrial  unit, 
lacking  those  intimate  bonds  of  affection  that  bind  to- 
gether the  smaller  families  of  to-day.  The  Church  broke 
up  these  family  groups,  because  it  was  to  her  interest  to 
defend  the  right  of  industrial  converts  to  change  their 
religion  and  to  control  their  persons  and  actions.  The 
Church  fathers  taught  their  followers  to  break  away 
from  all  customs,  local  as  well  as  national,  that  in  any 
way  interfered  with  the  exercise  of  their  religion.  The 
Church  also  depended  largely  on  women  for  services 
and  contributions.  No  matter  how  much  the  dominion 
of  the  husband  was  emphasized  in  theory,  the  Church 
was  compelled  in  practice  to  defend  the  liberty  and 
rights  of  women.  Precedents  were  thus  established  that 
gradually  elevated  women  and  gave  them  a  higher  social 
status.  As  a  result,  the  old  type  of  family  was  displaced 
by  the  smaller,  more  closely  knit  family  of  modern  times. 

The  gradual  manumission  of  the  slaves  was  due  to  the 
same  circumstances  that  elevated  the  position  of  women. 
The  feeling  that  all  were  equal  before  God  and  the  law  could 
not  but  check  the  aggressions  of  masters,  and  give  to  their 
slaves  certain  rights  that  would  in  the  end  make  slavery 
unprofitable.  In  theory  the  Church  was  not  opposed  to 
slaves,  but  it  was  opposed  to  any  such  crude  exploitation 
of  them  as  would  degrade  their  characters,  injure  their 
health,  and  unfit  them  for  a  future  life.  It  thus  set  con- 
ditions to  which  masters  could  not  comply  without  rais- 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  77 

ing  the  cost  of  slave  labour  above  that  of  freemen.  When 
it  became  profitable  to  commute  services,  slavery  gradually 
disappeared  and  men  were  put  more  nearly  on  an  equal 
footing. 

An  increased  fidelity  to  trusts  also  arose,  because  of  the 
increased  sacredness  attached  to  oaths  and  visions  of  an 
enduring  punishment  for  those  who  violated  their  promises. 
It  thus  became  possible  to  make  contracts  with  people  in 
distant  places,  who  were  out  of  the  reach  of  civil  law.  As 
commerce  depends  upon  the  sacredness  of  contracts,  its 
transactions  must  be  limited  if  there  is  no  strong  feeling 
impelling  men  to  carry  out  their  agreements.  Although, 
doubtless,  the  purely  civil  contract  of  modern  times  is 
stronger  than  the  early  contracts,  which,  if  violated, 
brought  only  religious  penalties,  yet  the  economic  ideas 
and  doctrines  upon  which  civil  contracts  are  based  could 
not  well  arise  until  experience  founded  on  the  earlier 
system  had  prepared  the  way  for  them. 

Unconsciously  the  Church  fathers  were  intense  cosmo- 
politans. Not  sharing  in  national  events  and  local  festi- 
vals, they  disregarded  nations  and  localities.  Furthermore, 
the  shortness  and  uncertainty  of  life,  and  the  need  of  con- 
stant exertion  to  prepare  for  the  future  life,  turned  men's 
attention  from  the  customs  and  habits  of  earlier  times. 
The  only  common  bond  was  in  Christ  through  whom  all 
men  became  brothers.  The  feeling  that  Christ  was  man 
as  well  as  God  fostered  a  feeling  of  brotherhood  which 
became  the  basis  of  a  social  cooperation  broad  enough  to 
include  all  who  were  fit  to  enter  it.  This  socialistic  ele- 
ment had  important  economic  effects.  The  doctrine  that 
he  who  would  be  master  must  be  a  servant  gave  new 
motives  for  humble  social  work.  All  the  monastic  soci- 
eties show  the  effect  of  this  spirit,  and  through  them 
labour  acquired  a  dignity  that  it  has  ever  since  retained. 
No  steady  social  progress  was  possible  until  work  and 
service  became  motor  ideals,  and  thus  drew  off  into  use- 


78  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

ful  channels  the  energy  that  had  been  wasted  in  war  or 
dissipation. 

The  fifteenth  century  was  a  period  of  change  and  prog- 
ress. The  marvels  of  the  nineteenth  century  are  still 
too  fresh  in  the  memories  of  the  people  of  this  generation 
for  them  to  judge  fairly  of  the  relative  merits  of  these  two 
periods.  Our  accounts  of  the  earlier  century  have,  more- 
over, been  coloured  by  partisan  writers  more  interested 
in  theological  controversy  than  in  industrial  progress. 
An  age,  however,  that  invented  printing,  discovered 
America,  and  brought  into  use  gunpowder  and  the  mag- 
net, must  have  an  industrial  history  worthy  of  study. 
These  events  could  scarcely  have  happened  without  radical 
changes  in  the  structure  of  society.  To  them  was  due  in 
great  part  the  political,  social,  and  religious  transforma- 
tion of  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  use  of  the  magnet  caused  radical  changes  in  com- 
merce. The  great  commerce  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  been 
with  the  far  East,  and,  since  the  sea  route  to  India  had 
not  yet  been  discovered,  all  Eastern  wares  were  brought 
by  caravans  to  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  thence 
by  sea  to  Italy.  Germany  had  obtained  a  share  of  these 
goods  by  land  routes  from  Italy,  but  the  Alps  were  too 
great  an  obstacle  to  permit  much  trade.  The  unsettled 
condition  of  the  country  which  the  traders  had  to  traverse 
was  an  even  greater  barrier.  Robber  bands  had  infested 
the  roads,  and  local  princes  checked  trade  by  high  imposts. 
Such  obstacles  had  been  too  great  to  allow  any  systematic 
development  of  trade,  and  Germany  could  not  have  a 
normal  development  until  freed  from  these  burdens.  The 
long  sea  voyages  which  the  magnet  made  possible  put  these 
northern  regions  into  direct  contact  with  Italy,  and  opened 
up  a  safe  and  regular  route  for  the  transportation  of  goods. 

Influenced  by  modern  ideas,  we  are  apt  to  underestimate 
the  value  of  Eastern  trade  to  northern  Europe.     Spices 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     79 

seem  unimportant  if  not  harmful,  while  Eastern  luxuries 
are  accounted  the  source  of  many  of  our  present  evils.  It 
must,  however,  be  kept  in  mind  that  the  North  Atlantic 
slope  is  a  damp,  cold  country,  which  the  Gulf  Stream 
makes  a  region  of  perpetual  rain,  thus  preventing  the 
ripening  of  many  of  those  crops  which  are  the  mainstay 
of  warmer  climates.  The  diet  of  the  people  of  northern 
Europe  was  made  up  of  starchy  foods,  which  could  not 
thoroughly  ripen  because  of  the  damp  climate  and  the 
short  seasons,  or  of  meat,  which  could  not  be  preserved. 
Eastern  spices  and  cheap  salt  were  necessary  to  make 
such  a  diet  wholesome  or  even  endurable.  Before  their 
introduction,  Germany  was  settled  mainly  in  the  uplands 
of  the  south,  where  a  comparatively  dry  and  warm  climate 
permitted  a  natural  drainage,  the  better  maturing  of  crops, 
and  the  cultivation  of  many  southern  plants.  With  few 
exceptions,  the  north  Germany  of  the  fifteenth  century 
was  a  new  country,  opened  up  by  the  North  Atlantic  sea 
route,  and  made  tolerable  by  the  new  conditions.  Even 
in  the  time  of  Luther  the  north  Germans  were  regarded 
as  mere  barbarians.  It  was  to  the  advantage  of  the  Prot- 
estants that  they  lived  in  a  country  unknown,  and  hence 
not  thought  worthy  of  much  attention.  The  Church  did 
not  recognize  the  importance  of  the  new  movement  until 
it  reached  south  Germany  and  France. 

At  first  thought  it  may  seem  that  gunpowder  does  not 
belong  in  a  list  of  economic  inventions.  War  prevents 
industry  and  checks  trade  and  commerce.  A  glance  at 
mediaeval  conditions  will  show,  however,  that  gunpowder 
was  an  efficient  agent  of  peace,  and  thus  a  promoter  of 
industry.  The  great  disturbers  of  peace  were  the  country 
nobility,  who  were  continually  engaged  in  private  wars,  in 
plundering  the  neighbouring  cities  and  towns  and  the  trad- 
ers that  passed  through  their  estates.  Their  castles  and 
strongholds  were  on  hills  that  were  inaccessible  until  the 
invention  of  gunpowder  increased  the  power  of  the  attack- 


80  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

ing  party.  After  these  marauding  nobles  had  been  brought 
under  control,  and  a  general  peace  established,  a  great  ex- 
tension of  trade  and  commerce  became  possible.  Then  for 
the  first  time  could  Germany  be  called  with  truth  a  civil- 
ized country. 

While  these  changes  were  going  on  in  the  political  and 
foreign  relations  of  Germany  social  changes  of  equal  im- 
portance were  in  progress.  The  old  houses  of  wood,  or 
mud  and  plaster,  with  thatched  roofs,  were  sources  of 
constant  danger  from  fire  and  disease.  The  re-discovery 
of  the  art  of  making  brick  led  to  the  displacement  of 
such  houses  by  others  better  suited  to  the  needs  of  family 
life.  Glass  windows  now  for  the  first  time  admitted  sun- 
light into  houses,  and  thus  better  sanitation  became  possi- 
ble. With  the  introduction  of  chimneys  each  room  could 
have  its  own  fireplace  and  smoke  find  an  exit  without 
interfering  with  family  comfort.  Chimneys  also  made  it 
possible  to  have  ovens  in  houses,  and  thus  baked  food  and 
raised  bread  displaced  the  stews,  broths,  and  porridges 
to  which  ancient  cooking  was  confined.  Dry  foods  and 
foreign  spices  created  a  demand  for  new  drinks,  and  as 
a  result  modern  beer  was  perfected.  Some  forms  of  beer, 
it  is  true,  date  from  an  earlier  period,  but  beer  made 
from  hops  came  into  general  use  at  this  time.  The  dryer 
the  food  and  the  hotter  the  seasoning,  the  greater  was 
the  desire  for  beer,  and  the  more  marked  was  its  improve- 
ment. Equally  great  changes  occurred  in  the  clothing. 
The  early  German  was  clothed  in  furs,  skins,  and  leather, 
materials  that  make  rough  and  uncomfortable  garments. 
In  the  fifteenth  century  these  rude  garments  were  dis- 
placed by  those  made  from  wool.  Although  the  presence 
of  wolves  still  limited  the  production  of  sheep  in  Ger- 
many, it  had  become  easy  to  import  wool  from  England, 
and  thus  a  great  industry  was  made  possible  in  the  Ger- 
man cities. 

The  economic  effects  of  the  discovery  of  America  show 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  81 

themselves  a  little  later,  but  are  so  intimately  connected 
with  the  changes  of  this  period  that  they  deserve  mention 
in  this  connection.  Sugar  and  many  kinds  of  sweets  soon 
came  into  general  use.  While  southern  fruits  are  sweet, 
northern  fruits  are  acid,  and  for  their  utilization  sugar  is 
a  necessity.  Thus  the  introduction  of  sugar  in  northern 
Europe  helped  to  create  a  revolution  in  the  diet  of  its 
inhabitants. 

Many  more  economic  changes  belong  to  this  epoch,  and 
those  that  I  have  mentioned  might  be  explained  in  greater 
detail.  Enough,  however,  has  been  said  to  show  that  a 
new  civilization  had  begun.  The  older  civilization  was 
communal ;  its  activities  were  shared  by  all  alike.  To  do 
anything  or  to  enjoy  anything  demanded  the  presence  and 
cooperation  of  a  large  number  of  persons.  Pleasure  and 
work  alike  were  sought  out  of  doors ;  houses  were  not 
homes,  but  mere  places  of  refuge  from  storms  and  dark- 
ness. The  early  German  disliked  towns,  hated  houses, 
and  associated  everything  pleasant  with  the  free,  open 
air.  Hunting,  fishing,  working,  and  fighting  were  activi- 
ties to  his  taste,  and  for  enjoyment  he  sought  the  tour- 
nament, the  village  fair,  and  sports.  Beds  were  mere 
smothering,  sweltering  boxes  from  which  to  escape  as 
soon  as  possible.  The  life  on  an  Atlantic  liner  presents 
the  best  picture  of  the  instincts  and  feelings  of  the  early 
German.  The  cabin  is  tolerable  only  when  meals  are 
served.  Every  one  dreads  to  go  to  his  berth,  and  rejoices 
when  the  break  of  day  allows  him  to  regain  the  deck. 
The  only  pleasant  associations  on  a  ship  are  those  with 
the  upper  deck,  where  light  and  air  abound.  The  inven- 
tions and  changes  of  the  fifteenth  century  made  indoor 
life  agreeable,  and  created  a  new  man,  who  disliked  the 
open  country  as  much  as  his  ancestor  disliked  the  confine- 
ment of  town  life. 

The  new  conditions  for  the  first  time  made  family  life 
possible.      Women   in    Germany  had  always  occupied  a 


82  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

place  of  esteem.  A  cold  climate  makes  a  man  much  more 
dependent  on  his  wife  for  comfort  than  a  hot  climate.  He 
is  thrown  more  in  contact  with  her  and  gains  more  by  her 
good-will.  Children  are  also  more  difficult  to  rear,  and 
more  attached  to  those  who  defend  and  nourish  them. 
And  woman's  independence  was  greatly  strengthened  by 
the  economic  transformation  which  made  the  house  the 
centre  of  pleasurable  activities.  The  woman,  as  mistress 
of  the  house,  had  charge  of  the  clothing,  the  fire,  the  cook- 
ing, the  bedding,  and  all  that  pertained  to  the  cleanliness 
and  health  of  the  family.  Man  produced  necessities  ; 
i  woman  changed  them  into  comforts.  To  have  a  wife  and 
/home  soon  became  the  desire  of  many  men,  and  the  new 
situation  modified  their  conceptions,  plans,  and  ideals. 

To  understand  the  changes  created  by  these  new  ideals, 
family  pleasures  must  be  contrasted  with  the  communal 
pleasures  of  earlier  times.  Under  earlier  conditions  each 
town  or  village  formed  a  self-contained  group,  whose  mem- 
bers shared  with  each  other  the  bounties  and  pleasures  that 
nature  bestowed.  The  events  to  which  all  looked  forward, 
and  in  which  all  participated,  were  the  festivals  and  the 
fairs,  which  came  at  frequent  intervals  and  were  accom- 
panied by  feasting,  dancing,  singing,  and  sports.  Every 
event  that  needed  emphasis  was  celebrated  by  some  sort 
of  a  festival,  not  the  same  in  the  different  nations  and 
tribes,  yet  all  of  the  same  general  character.  There  was 
a  festival  at  the  opening  of  spring,  at  harvest  time,  at  the 
vintage,  the  shearing  of  sheep,  or  the  gathering  of  any 
crop.  The  appearance  of  each  new  moon  was  also  cele- 
brated, as  were  events  in  the  religious  or  political  life.  At 
these  times  each  one  brought  what  he  could,  —  meat,  bread, 
wine,  or  milk,  —  and  of  the  rude  plenty  everybody  glutted 
himself.  Many  of  these  festivals  were  continued  during 
the  Catholic  supremacy  as  saints'  days,  while  others,  much 
worse  in  character,  were  kept  up  by  local  usage.  To  this 
holiday  list  should  be  added  the  numerous  fail's  where 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     83 

produce  was  bought  and  sold,  and  at  which  many  primi- 
tive customs  were  retained  that  were  not  tolerated  at 
other  times  and  places. 

I  do  not  denounce  these  occasions,  nor  assert  that  they 
perpetuated  all  the  looseness  and  debauchery  of  heathen 
ages.  To  understand  these  earlier  times,  however,  we 
must  know  what  evils  were  continuing,  and  what  were 
banished  or  modified  by  the  new  economic  conditions. 
The  German  Reformers  thought  that  this  moral  degenera- 
tion was  a  new  phenomenon,  and  attributed  it  to  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Catholic  Church.  But  prophets  are  bad 
historians.  The  really  new  characteristics  were  the  vir- 
tues they  were  praising  and  not  the  evils  they  were  de- 
nouncing. The  Church  did  not  make  the  festivals,  but 
merely  changed  their  names  and  toned  them  down  a  bit. 
So  long  as  these  communal  pleasures  were  the  only  relief 
from  the  monotony  of  a  hard  life,  they  were  a  necessity, 
and  were  continued  in  spite  of  the  attendant  evils.  Men 
must  have  amusements,  crude  ones  if  no  others  are  at  hand. 

The  development  of  the  modern  home  gave  a  new  direc- 
tion to  social  life,  and  enabled  men  to  satisfy  in  a  more 
refined  way  the  natural  longing  for  pleasure.  One  class 
emphasized  home  pleasures,  the  other,  from  choice  or 
necessity,  clung  to  the  crude  communal  pleasures.  Thus 
there  arose  a  differentiation  in  society  and  a  basis  for 
natural  selection.  The  moral  life  of  the  people  became 
more  and  more  associated  with  family  life,  and  those  in 
whom  these  ties  were  strongest  gradually  withdrew  from 
the  communal  pleasures,  and  formed  more  exclusive  groups 
of  their  own. 

Such  persons  naturally  looked  on  the  communal  life  as 
degrading,  and  soon  denounced  its  amusements  as  vices. 
Doubtless  the  withdrawal  of  the  more  cultivated  classes 
from  the  communal  pleasures  lowered  their  tone,  but  at 
the  same  time  freer  contact  with  foreigners  brought  in 
new  vices  and  weakened  the  restraints  that  had  kept  old 


84  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

customs  from  being  injurious.  The  greater  plenty  of  the 
new  epoch  also  enabled  those  so  inclined  to  indulge  more 
freely  in  dissipation.  A  type  of  sensualism  thus  arose 
which,  while  containing  no  new  elements,  combined  in  a 
more  striking  way  the  degenerate  tendencies  of  older 
times.  It  is  this  differentiation  of  society,  with  the  con- 
trasts it  affords,  that  gives  rise  to  the  moral  problem  of 
the  new  age.  One  social  class  was  rising  and  working 
its  way  towards  better  standards,  while  another  class  was 
going  to  the  dogs  with  astonishing  rapidity,  and  in  a 
way  that  caused  disgust  and  alarm.  No  society  could 
long  remain  quiet  under  such  conditions,  and  the  violence 
of  the  subsequent  eruptions  showed  how  deep  was  the 
chasm  that  separated  the  two  contending  classes. 

There  is  then  good  reason  to  believe  that  the  economic 
condition  of  northern  Europe  during  the  fifteenth  century 
was  rapidly  improving.  Food  was  plentiful,  comforts 
were  general,  and  productive  power  was  greatly  increased. 
It  was,  as  Rogers  sajrs,  "the  golden  age  for  the  labourer,"1 
especially  for  those  of  the  better  class.  A  general  impres- 
sion, however,  exists  that  this  age  was  lawless,  that  wars, 
murders,  robberies,  and  other  disorders  were  common,  and 
that  the  people  were  deprived  of  that  protection  and  secu- 
rity necessary  for  prosperity.  This  impression  has  been 
created  partly  by  the  demands  of  subsequent  theological 
controversy  and  partly  by  the  fact  that  history  has  seldom 
risen  above  a  chronicle  of  wars  and  disasters.  History  as 
a  register  of  wars  and  blood-thrilling  events  leaves  the 
feeling  that  men  have  no  occupation  but  war,  plunder, 
and  murder.  Yet  in  so  large  a  region  as  western  Europe 
a  constant  series  of  wars  might  be  waged  without  serious 
effect  upon  the  great  mass  of  its  inhabitants.  It  is  true 
that  in  the  fifteenth  century  Germany  was  often  embroiled 
in  war,  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  Germany 

1  Rogers,  Work  and  Wages,  p.  326. 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  85 

of  that  day  was  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  of  which  mod- 
ern Germany  was  but  a  part  and  north  Germany  but 
an  insignificant  part.  The  German  Emperor  claimed  to 
be  the  ruler  of  Europe  and  was  trying  to  enforce  his 
claims  in  Italy  and  against  France.  There  was  no  inter- 
nal contest;  the  fighting  was  done  in  Italy  or  on  the 
French  border.  Naturally  the  Italian  cities  suffered 
greatly,  while  the  German  cities  gained  by  this  destruc- 
tion and  could  well  afford  to  pay  the  small  war  tax  the 
Emperor  imposed.  The  only  other  enemy  of  Germany 
was  the  Turk,  but  as  the  Turkish  army  never  got  farther 
west  than  Vienna  the  losses  it  inflicted  on  Germany  were 
slight  and  confined  to  a  region  in  which  the  Reformation 
had  little  influence.  There  were  no  invasions  of  Germany 
such  as  as  those  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  or  of  the  Napo- 
leonic period,  nor  did  Germany  become  the  battle-ground 
of  Europe  until  the  sixteenth  century.  Before  that  period 
the  Germans  suffered  nothing  from  invasion  and  only 
slightly  from  taxation.  The  Emperor  was  too  rarely  at 
home  to  secure  more  than  nominal  obedience,  and  gladly 
accepted  what  funds  and  men  were  offered  to  support  his 
foreign  pretensions.  This  much  sacrificed,  each  little  state 
went  its  own  way,  enforced  its  own  laws,  and  enjoyed  the 
proceeds  of  its  labour.  The  bane  of  Germany  was  private 
warfare  among  the  nobility,  and  the  robber  bands  that 
infested  the  highways.  Even  these  evils  were  greatly 
reduced;  the  perpetual  peace  of  the  Diet  of  Worms  ended 
the  one,  and  the  use  of  artillery  the  other. 

There  is  also  an  exaggerated  notion  as  to  the  amount 
of  suffering  that  the  Middle  Ages  imposed  on  the  people.1 

1  Writing  of  the  English  wars  of  this  period,  Rogers  (  Work  and  Wages, 
p.  334)  says:  "During  the  struggle  between  the  rival  houses,  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  people  were  absolutely  indifferent.  It  was  not  a  war  of 
sieges  but  of  battles,  in  which  the  combatants  appear  to  have  sought  out 
some  secluded  spot  and  to  have  fought  out  the  combat.  I  have  never 
seen  or  read  of  any  injury  done  to  neutrals,  except  the  outrages  of  Mar- 


86  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

The  fighting  was  restricted  to  the  nobility  and  their  re- 
tainers, and  while  the  defeated  army  suffered  severely, 
the  common  people,  who  were  non-combatants,  suffered 
little.  New  rulers  might  give  them  pain  by  destroying 
the  feeling  of  loyalty  that  had  grown  up  between  them 
and  their  former  rulers,  but  the  new  rulers  did  not  dis- 
turb them  so  long  as  they  paid  their  taxes  and  rents. 
The  chivalrous  feelings  that  influenced  the  nobles  reduced 
the  evil  of  pillage  to  a  minimum.  Even  robbers  respected 
the  private  property  attached  to  land  ;  they  were  terrors 
to  merchants  and  traders  but  not  to  the  farmers. 

The  pillage  and  ruthless  destruction  of  non-combatants 
was  introduced  at  a  later  period,  when  gunpowder  made 
mercenary  armies  a  necessity.  A  low  type  of  men,  often 
degraded  sensualists  without  any  feeling  of  honour,  dis- 
placed the  fighting  nobility  of  earlier  times.  These  new 
soldiers  made  fighting  a  profitable  trade.  Their  ravages, 
therefore,  were  unlimited,  especially  as  their  numbers 
enabled  them  to  devastate  any  region  through  which  they 
passed.  It  is  these  later  scourges,  unknown  until  after 
the  Reformation,  that  created  the  popular  impression  of 
the  horrors  of  war. 

It  is  often  stated  that  the  Reformation  was  an  offshoot 
of  the  Renaissance,  but  this  implies  a  misunderstanding 
of  the  social  forces  that  were  reconstructing  society.  In 
a  reversion  the  motor  reactions  of  longest  standing  create 
the  dominant  motives,  and  force  into  a  secondary  place 
the  newer  motor  tendencies  that  are  the  outcome  of  the 
economic  pressure  of  the  preceding  epoch.     The  German 


garet's  northern  army  in  the  beginning  of  1461, — deeds  which  led  to 
the  instant  deposition  of  Henry  and  the  coronation  of  Edward.  The  war, 
as  I  believe,  was  as  distant  from  the  great  wars  of  the  English  people,  and 
was  as  little  injurious  in  its  immediate  effects,  as  summer  lightning  is.  If 
it  was  followed  by  any  destruction  of  human  life,  the  loss  did  not  fall  on 
the  working  people  of  England,  but  on  the  nobles  and  professional  condot- 
tieri.     It  had  no  bearing  on  work  and  wages." 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  87 

reversion,  therefore,  became  moral,  while  the  Italian  rever- 
sion was  aesthetic.  The  Italian  ideal  was  sought  in 
Greece ;  the  German  took  his  ideal  from  the  early  Chris- 
tians. The  leaders  of  the  Renaissance  were  rational, 
literary,  and  aesthetic.  Sympathizing  with  the  Church, 
they  sought  to  reform  its  abuses  and  to  give  it  a  new 
tone.  Between  them  and  the  German  Reformers  there 
was  an  impassable  gulf.  Such  doctrines  as  justification 
by  faith  and  the  infallibility  of  the  Scriptures  were 
despised  and  ridiculed  by  the  humanists,  who  also  had 
too  little  regard  for  family  ties  to  sympathize  with  the 
stern  morality  of  the  northern  nations.  Self-indulgence 
was  one  of  their  leading  traits,  and  this  alone  was  enough 
to  make  them  disliked  by  the  moral  purists.  Luther 
talked  of  presumptuous  human  reason  intruding  itself  in 
the  region  of  faith,  and  looked  on  Erasmus  as  a  doubter, 
a  scoffer,  and  an  Epicurean  ;  while  Erasmus  in  turn 
regarded  Lutheranism  as  an  injury  to  good  morals  as  well 
as  to  good  letters.  A  union  of  these  forces  could  be  but 
of  a  temporary  nature. 

Through  its  influence  on  the  Church,  the  Renaissance 
materially  aided  the  Reformation.  During  the  preceding 
century  the  Renaissance  had  created  a  new  tone  in  the 
Church,  and  had  given  new  aims  and  ideals  to  its  leaders. 
The  harshness  of  earlier  times  had  been  softened ;  the 
reason  and  the  culture  of  the  higher  circles  overcame  the 
brutal  domineering  spirit  often  exhibited  by  the  Domini- 
can monks.  The  Inquisition  had  fallen  into  disuse,  and 
the  popes  had  become  church  builders  and  picture  buyers, 
using  their  money  to  make  Italy  artistic  and  beautiful. 
With  such  ideals  there  was  less  papal  interference  with 
the  civil  affairs  of  Europe  ;  and  so  long  as  the  flow  of 
money  into  the  papal  treasury  was  uninterrupted  moral 
controversies  disturbed  Rome  very  little.  Such  a  regime 
as  the  popes  of  the  Renaissance  administered  was  hard  on 
the  pocket-book  of  the  German  people,  but  it  left  them 


88  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

quite  free  in  other  matters.  No  notice  of  the  Reforma- 
tion was  taken  at  Rome  until  the  revenues  of  the  Church 
were  threatened,  and  then  there  was  great  willingness  to 
compromise,  or  at  least  to  overlook  those  theoretical 
points  which  were  under  dispute.  Luther  and  not  the 
Church  brought  matters  to  an  issue.  A  slight  modifica- 
tion or  recantation  on  his  part  by  which  the  authority  of 
the  Church  was  recognized  would  have  left  him  free  to 
work  and  preach  for  reform.  The  Church  wanted  German 
money,  not  German  blood. 

The  change  in  the  tone  of  the  Church  can  be  easily 
seen  by  comparing  the  treatment  of  Huss  and  of  Luther. 
Huss  was  burned  in  violation  of  solemn  pledges,  without 
a  hearing  or  even  a  protestation.  He  faced  a  cold,  heart- 
less tribunal,  the  members  of  which  seem  to  have  had  no 
touch  of  that  humanitarian  spirit  to  be  awakened  in  the 
following  century.  Nor  did  his  death  serve  to  strike  one 
spark  of  feeling  or  sympathy  out  of  all  Europe.  Luther's 
journey  to  Worms  seems  to  have  been  more  like  a  tri- 
umphal procession  than  that  of  a  condemned  criminal. 
He  received  repeated  ovations,  preached  frequently,  and 
had  the  air  of  a  man  who  knew  that  he  was  both  right 
and  safe.  He  was  evidently  an  elephant  on  the  hands  of 
the  Diet,  which  was  puzzled  to  know  how  to  escape  from 
the  difficulties  created  by  his  presence.  The  streets  were 
crowded  with  applauding  friends,  who  regarded  him  as 
the  champion  of  their  cause.  It  is  said  that  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  Pope  thought  himself  in  greater  danger 
than  Luther. 

It  took  the  Diet  a  month  to  get  rid  of  Luther.  His 
case  was  referred  from  tribunal  to  tribunal  in  the  hope 
that  some  method  could  be  devised  to  relieve  the  strain 
of  the  situation.  No  one  wanted  to  take  the  blood  that 
Luther  was  willing  to  give.  The  Diet  desired  anything 
but  a  martyr.  It  was  willing  enough  to  burn  books,  but 
not  men.     It  took  a  century  to  undo  the  work  of   the 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  89 

Renaissance  and  prepare  the  way  for  the  night  of  St. 
Bartholomew;  a  drop  of  blood  would  have  shocked  a 
world  given  to  singing  idyls  of  peace,  harmony,  and  love. 
So  in  the  end,  much  to  Luther's  disgust  but  to  the  relief 
of  everybody  else,  he  was  lured  into  a  forest,  seized  by 
friends,  and  confined  in  a  lovely  castle  where  he  could 
work  undisturbed  except  by  foes  that  vanish  before  an 
inkstand.  This  solution  pleased  all  except  the  Domini- 
cans, whose  wrath  was  impotent  so  long  as  the  Pope,  the 
Emperor,  and  the  Diet  were  indifferent  and  winked  at  the 
failure  of  their  own  edict. 

Judged  by  Protestant  standards  the  Church  of  the 
fifteenth  century  was  a  failure.  Yet  these  standards  are 
partial,  and  those  that  use  them  judge  an  old  civilization 
by  the  standards  of  a  new  one.  Judged  by  the  old 
standards,  the  Church  of  that  time  may  be  regarded  as 
a  success.  At  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century  a 
Catholic  writer  with  a  philosophic  bent  of  mind  might 
have  made  out  a  good  case  for  the  ecclesiastical  organiza- 
tion. There  were,  indeed,  many  able  persons  who  thought 
the  Church  was  just  entering  the  final  stages  of  its  tri- 
umphal progress,  and  congratulated  it  upon  the  complete 
accomplishment  of  the  social  aims  for  which  it  had  strug- 
gled. 

To  view  the  Church  of  that  period  primarily  as  a  reli- 
gious or  a  moral  organization  puts  it  in  a  wrong  light.  At 
bottom  it  was  a  civil  institution,  and  it  should  be  judged 
according  to  its  civil  and  economic  programme.  Each 
age  has  its  aims  and  ideals,  and  if  the  Church  of  the 
Middle  Ages  realized  the  social  programme  set  by  the 
conditions  of  its  time,  it  may  justly  claim  to  have  been  a 
success.  The  ideal  of  the  Church  was  to  secure  peace, 
and  it  rightly  demanded  obedience  as  a  means  to  this  end. 
The  first  duties  of  men  were  unquestioning  obedience  and 
humility  in  the  presence  of  Church  authorities.     It  would 


90  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

have  been  impossible  for  the  Church  to  awe  nations,  to 
restrain  rulers,  to  prevent  local  quarrels,  and  to  check  the 
aggressions  of  the  strong  except  by  educating  every  person 
to  be  obedient  and  humble  when  the  authority  of  the 
Church  was  interposed  between  him  and  the  objects  of  his 
desire.  Obedience  is  the  first  lesson  in  social  progress, 
and  this  lesson  was  well  worth  learning,  even  though  it 
took  centuries  to  make  it  an  instinctive  motor  reaction. 
By  the  steady  pressure  of  authority  the  Church  was  modi- 
fying the  very  brain  tissue  of  the  Christian  world,  and 
inculcating  habits  of  thought  which  lie  at  the  basis  of 
social  progress.  The  Church  may  perish,  but  the  psychic 
qualities  it  created  will  endure  as  long  as  European  civili- 
zation. 

At  last  Europe  was  obedient,  and  as  a  whole  it  was  at 
peace.  If  the  Church  failed  in  the  latter  respect,  it  was 
not  because  it  had  not  quelled  the  old  disorders,  but 
because  the  national  spirit  was  now  rising,  and  with  it 
a  new  type  of  struggles.  Ages  lap  over  one  another ;  the 
world  does  not  wait  for  one  epoch  to  be  absolutely  fin- 
ished before  beginning  another.  To  the  peace  and  obedi- 
ence that  the  Church  secured,  the  softening,  humane  spirit 
of  the  Renaissance  must  be  added  as  a  further  victory  for 
the  old  religion.  It  was  a  triumph  of  the  higher  and 
better  element  in  the  Church  over  the  lower  and  sterner 
element.  Protestantism  in  the  end  gave  the  control  of 
the  Church  back  to  this  lower  element,  but  the  fault,  if 
there  be  any,  was  not  that  of  the  Church ;  it  was  the  result 
of  an  irreconcilable  conflict  which  no  wisdom  could  avoid. 

The  economic  aims  of  the  Church  were  also  fairly  well 
realized.  It  provided  food  and  shelter  for  the  workers, 
charity  for  the  unfortunate,  and  relief  from  disease,  plague, 
and  famine,  which  were  but  too  common  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
When  we  note  the  number  of  the  hospitals  and  infirmaries, 
the  bounties  of  the  monks,  and  the  self-sacrifice  of  the  nuns, 
we  cannot  doubt  that  the  unfortunate  of  that  time  were 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     91 

at  least  as  well  provided  for  as  they  are  at  the  present. 
If  the  workmen  were  well  fed,  warmly  clothed,  and  com- 
fortably housed,  surely  the  economic  aims  of  the  age  were 
fairly  well  realized. 

The  cause  of  the  failure  of  the  Church,  since  it  lay 
neither  in  the  field  of  politics  nor  in  that  of  economics, 
must  be  sought  in  the  domain  of  morals.  Protestantism 
had  a  positive  moral  programme.  It  consecrated  the 
Sabbath,  put  the  ban  upon  communal  pleasures,  enforced 
the  ten  commandments,  and  induced  men  to  cultivate  the 
harmless  pleasures  of  home  life.  This  programme  may 
have  been  narrow,  but  it  was  at  least  effective.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  moral  programme  of  the  Church  was 
essentially  negative.  Regarding  the  world  as  the  abode 
of  sin,  the  Church  admonished  those  troubled  about  the 
salvation  of  their  souls  to  enter  monasteries  and  convents. 
The  Church  succeeded  better  in  taking  people  out  of  a  world 
of  vice  and  dissipation  than  in  helping  them  to  live  in  it. 

To  understand  the  real  cause  of  the  new  difficulties  a 
return  must  be  made  to  the  primitive  traits  shown  by  all 
races.  The  local  environments  in  which  primitive  races 
dwelt  so  long  tended  to  develop  two  passions,  —  greed 
and  hate.  Of  these  greed  became  the  dominant  passion 
if  a  scanty  and  irregular  food  supply  compelled  men  to 
have  strong  appetites  in  order  to  exist.  The  passion  of 
hatred  became  the  leading  motive  and  determined  the 
relations  that  existed  between  men  and  nations  if  the 
struggle  was  with  other  men  for  the  possession  of  the  few 
choice  places  which  the  region  afforded.  Greed  thus 
arises  from  a  struggle  with  a  niggardly  nature  and  hate 
from  a  contest  with  men  for  the  gifts  of  nature.  Every 
man  contending  for  these  gifts  of  nature  is  at  war  with 
every  other  man.  Societies  when  formed  restrain  these 
unsocial  tendencies  and  make  rules  to  check  the  passion 
of  hate. 


92  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

When  the  social  element  becomes  dominant,  improving 
the  industrial  conditions  and  creating  social  standards,  a 
new  evil  arises  through  the  strong  appetites  inherited 
from  earlier  times.  To  exist  at  all,  an  unsocial  man  under 
primitive  conditions  needed  strong  passions.  An  irregular 
food  supply  cut  off  all  who  could  not  gorge  themselves  and 
take  on  fat  in  times  of  plenty  in  order  to  endure  long 
periods  of  starvation.  Lack  of  clothing  and  shelter  made 
food  the  only  source  of  heat.  The  diet  was  usually  com- 
posed of  very  few  articles,  of  small  nutritive  power,  —  a 
fact  which  necessitated  a  still  further  increase  of  appetite. 
Where  the  death-rate  was  high  a  tribe  would  soon  dis- 
appear if  the  sexual  instincts  were  not  vigorous.  In  short, 
every  increase  of  the  difficulties  of  living  increased  the 
strength  of  the  passions.  Men  lived  only  for  the  moment ; 
they  acted  quickly  and  fiercely.  They  gorged  and  in- 
dulged themselves  without  limit  in  the  short  interval 
when  the  bounties  of  nature  were  opened  to  them. 

The  evils  of  greed  do  not  show  themselves  until  the  food 
supply  becomes  regular.  Vice  comes  from  it,  just  as  crime 
comes  from  under-nutrition.  A  society  improving  its 
economic  condition  must  restrain  greed,  just  as  a  society 
increasing  its  social  tendencies  must  check  crime.  The 
standards  of  the  less  passionate  are  imposed  on  the  whole 
society ;  those  who  fail  to  restrain  themselves  suffer  the 
resentment  of  society;  those  who  conform  to  the  social 
standard  not  only  rejoice  in  its  approval  but  also  in  time 
resent  any  intimation  of  the  possibility  of  their  violating 
social  standards.  When  a  society  reaches  this  stage  its 
members  have  characters,  and  whatever  tends  to  lower 
character  standards  is  vice.  The  material  objects  leading 
to  over-indulgence  are  luxuries.  Under  this  head  must 
be  put  articles  of  which  the  consumption  makes  action  less 
prompt  and  effective  than  the  conditions  of  society  de- 
mand. Over-nutrition  brings  on  a  lassitude  which  pre- 
vents those  vigorous  reactions  against  opposing  obstacles 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  93 

admired  by  character  builders  and  moral  purists.  Social 
ostracism  eliminates  such  persons  and  keeps  society  pro- 
gressive. 

In  primitive  societies  crime  was  an  individual  affair.  To 
kill  an  enemy  of  the  tribe  was  a  virtue  and  brought  no 
punishment.  To  kill  a  member  of  the  social  group  created 
a  blood  feud  between  the  murderer  and  the  next  of  kin.  It 
was  the  duty  not  of  society  but  of  some  particular  person 
to  avenge  a  violent  death,  and  with  these  blood  feuds  the 
law  did  not  for  a  long  time  interfere.  When  the  feuds 
became  unlawful,  a  fine  or  composition  of  some  sort  was 
regarded  as  sufficient  punishment.  The  penalties  for 
crime  were  therefore  much  less  than  for  vice.  As  the 
punishment  for  vice  was  always  a  social  affair,  it  was 
severe.  The  whole  group,  and  not  a  single  individual, 
inflicted  the  penalty.  The  culprit  was  stoned  to  death, 
drowned,  outlawed,  or  subjected  to  some  other  equally 
violent  and  effectual  punishment. 

The  introduction  of  Christianity  changed  the  relative 
emphasis  upon  vice  and  crime.  The  early  Christians 
were  devoid  of  national  or  clannish  feeling.  They  felt 
themselves  mere  sojourners  in  this  world,  with  none  but 
religious  ties.  The  national  or  clan  distinction  between 
an  enemy  and  a  friend  disappeared.  All  men  became 
brothers,  and  every  murder  carried  with  it  the  penalty 
attached  to  the  killing  of  a  fellow-citizen.  In  addition 
to  this,  the  new  doctrine  that  life  is  sacred  made  murder 
one  of  the  worst  of  crimes.  The  early  Christian  thought 
not  merely  of  the  suffering  and  the  disturbance  that  the 
killing  caused,  but  also  of  the  eternal  welfare  of  the  vic- 
tim. The  wrong  done  was  not  so  much  the  depriving  of 
life  but  the  pushing  of  the  victim  into  the  future  world 
unprepared.  On  the  other  hand,  the  millennial  doctrines 
of  the  early  Church  tended  to  lessen  the  importance 
attached  to  vice,  or  at  least  to  lighten  its  social  punish- 
ments.    The  race  would  soon  be  before  the  Eternal  Judge, 


94  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

and  since  He  was  to  punish  misdeeds,  they  were  of  less 
concern  to  men.  When  virtue  is  thought  to  consist  in  a 
separation  from  the  world,  men  have  less  interest  in  what 
takes  place  in  the  world,  and  use  less  energy  to  reform  it 
or  to  restrain  its  evils.  People,  too,  who  believe  in  a 
speedy  destruction  of  the  world  have  less  interest  in  their 
distant  descendants.  Children  were  preserved  not  to  keep 
up  a  family  or  to  perform  certain  religious  rites,  but 
because  they  had  souls  to  save.  These  doctrines  lessened 
the  emphasis  placed  on  vice  by  earlier  nations,  or  at  least 
turned  the  attention  to  other  problems,  thus  leaving  the 
vicious  with  fewer  social  restraints.  If  a  man  did  not 
fear  future  punishment,  he  had  no  effective  restraint  to 
his  strong  passions.  It  is  true  that  the  Church  took  upon 
itself  the  punishment  of  vice,  but  its  power  was  in  no 
way  equal  to  the  earlier  local  sentiment  which  it  dis- 
placed. The  greater  part  of  this  power,  however,  was 
used  for  other  ends  which  the  exigencies  of  the  times 
made  more  important.  The  Church  offered  no  thorough 
remedy  for  vice.  To  a  man  weary  of  the  struggle  against 
his  passions  it  gave  a  place  of  refuge  in  monasteries,  but 
for  him  who  remained  in  the  world  it  offered  no  relief. 
The  feeling  that  men  were  totally  depraved  took  the 
spirit  out  of  every  efficient  plan  to  help  them.  It 
was  natural,  therefore,  that  the  civil  side  of  the  Church 
should  receive  emphasis,  and  that  crime  should  receive 
the  commanding  attention  that  formerly  had  been  given 
to  vice. 

These  facts  are  the  source  of  one  of  the  great  differ- 
ences between  the  Protestant  and  the  Catholic  worlds. 
The  Catholics  gave  their  first  thought  to  the  suppression 
of  crime.  The  Protestants,  on  the  other  hand,  exerted 
their  greatest  efforts  to  restrain  vice.  It  so  happened 
that  the  parts  of  Europe  dominated  by  the  Catholic 
Church  —  Italy  and  Spain  —  were  torn  by  civil  discords, 
and  there  the  need  of  peace  was  the  greatest.     Protestant 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     95 

Germany  and  England  had  already  secured  the  blessings 
of  peace,  and  were  forced,  therefore,  to  grapple  with  the 
vices  of  the  new  epoch.  Moreover,  it  is  natural  that  the 
Pope  should  have  looked  at  the  world  through  Italian 
eyes.  While  Italy  was  the  centre  of  contending  armies 
and  of  violent  social  eruptions  the  old  need  of  peace 
seemed  to  make  the  doctrinal  quarrels  of  German  monks 
trivial  incidents.  The  north  and  the  south  of  Europe 
were  too  far  apart  in  their  economic  conditions  to  be  con- 
tent with  one  social  programme.  The  split  was  the  inevi- 
table and  salutary  outcome  of  circumstances  that  neither 
Pope  nor  Church  could  prevent. 

The  Protestant  revolt  against  the  evils  of  indulgences 
arose  out  of  the  difference  in  the  emphasis  placed  upon 
vice  and  crime.  The  steady  pressure  of  the  Church  in 
Germany  for  several  centuries  had  created  a  class  of 
dingers,  who  looked  up  to  the  Church  as  the  sole  source 
of  authority.  They  accepted  submissively  whatever  was 
advanced  in  its  name,  and  looked  to  it  for  guidance  rather 
than  to  their  instinctive  feelings  or  to  primitive  German 
customs.  To  this  class  vice  was  a  secondary  form  of  crime, 
and  hence  a  matter  of  relative  disutility,  and  not,  as  for- 
merly, a  matter  of  absolute  morality.  Vices,  like  crimes, 
were  matters  of  fine  or  composition.  The  ordinary 
individual,  who  could  for  a  few  pence  avoid  the  moral 
penalty,  found  dissipation  easy.  The  authority  of  Rome 
was  held  in  such  awe  that  its  remission  of  the  penalty  for 
vice  had  too  much  weight  to  be  set  aside. 

It  is  wrong  to  suppose  that  the  simple  peasants  who 
paid  for  indulgences  had  committed  any  great  crime. 
They  were  not  robbers,  thieves,  or  murderers,  nor  did 
they  suppose  that  their  fathers  had  been.  The  conscious- 
ness of  having  violated  inherited  social  usages  gave  them 
an  uneasy  sense  of  guilt  from  which  they  desired  relief. 
The  old  internal  feelings  prompted  them  to  act  in  one  way; 


96  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

the  new  economic  conditions  with  their  numerous  luxuries 
prompted  them  to  act  in  another.  They  knew  they  had 
not  continued  the  simple  ways  of  the  fathers  nor  followed 
the  precepts  of  the  early  Church.  Their  longing  to  recon- 
cile the  conflicting  moral  and  economic  tendencies  made 
them  welcome  Church  indulgences  for  vice. 

It  is  often  assumed  that  these  indulgences  were  devised 
by  the  popes  to  further  their  corrupt  enterprises.  The 
principle,  however,  is  an  old  one,  which  had  been  acted 
upon  constantly  from  earliest  times.  The  Church  simply 
utilized  certain  instincts  and  tendencies  that  earlier  con- 
ditions had  formed.  Both  in  theory  and  practice  penances 
are  older  than  Christianity.  When  nations  were  converted, 
these  old  remedies  were  incorporated  into  the  Church's 
scheme  for  the  suppression  of  crime.  Civil  punishment 
was  obligatory,  and  fell  upon  any  one  who  committed  an 
unlawful  act,  whether  intentionally  or  unintentionally. 
The  primitive  mind  saw  no  difference  between  accidental 
and  intentional  violations  of  law.  Killing,  for  example, 
was  murder,  and  must  be  avenged  even  if  the  act  was 
unavoidable.  Submission  to  civil  punishment,  however, 
did  not  wipe  out  the  social  stain.  If  the  social  standards 
of  the  community  were  broken,  the  offender  had  not  merely 
to  submit  to  the  civil  punishment,  but  also  to  reestablish 
his  good  character  by  some  act  of  penance.  A  self- 
imposed  penalty  alone  could  restore  the  offender  to  his 
former  position.  This  gratuitous  suffering  proved  his 
respect  for  the  social  standard  he  had  lowered.  Pilgrim- 
ages, self-mutilations,  flagellations,  and  other  forms  of 
personal  penance  were  the  outcome  of  this  spirit.  By 
these  means  the  character  of  the  offenders  was  vindicated 
and  their  social  position  restored.  Upon  this  feeling 
among  the  German  peasants  the  agents  of  the  Pope 
relied,  when  they  offered  to  commute  a  personal  penance 
for  a  money  fine.  We  cannot  assume  that  the  peasant 
was  versed  in  Church  lore  and  knew  the  learned  distinc- 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     97 

tions  that  scholastic  writers  had  drawn.  He  had  simply 
an  innate  feeling  that  something  should  be  done  to  restore 
his  social  position,  and  a  Church  indulgence  seemed  the 
readiest  and  surest  means  to  this  end. 

This  solution  of  the  difficulties  that  vice  was  creating 
did  not  appeal  to  the  sturdy  moral  tone  of  the  early 
German  character.  As  vice  demanded  a  social  punish- 
ment, the  solidarity  of  responsibility  was  lost  if  the 
individual  could  elude  social  penalties  through  the  inter- 
vention of  a  foreign  power.  Had  the  agents  of  the  Pope 
merely  given  indulgences  for  crime,  they  would  probably 
have  avoided  condemnation.  As  it  was,  they  forced  an 
issue  between  the  moral  feelings  inherited  from  early 
German  conditions  and  the  new  group  of  feelings  that 
Church  activity  had  aroused.  The  dingers,  who  accepted 
every  act  of  the  Church,  were  a  new  class  created  by  the 
economic  pressure  that  marked  the  supremacy  of  the  Church 
in  Germany.  Opposed  to  the  dingers  were  those  in  whom 
the  old  spirit  of  liberty  and  morality  was  still  dominant. 
Doubtless  both  groups  of  feeling  were  strong  in  every  one. 
Many,  like  Luther,  prided  themselves  on  their  humble, 
submissive  spirit  and  were  a  long  time  in  determining 
which  element  in  their  nature  to  follow.  A  crisis  had 
come,  and  Germans  had  either  to  revert  to  their  earlier 
condition  or  follow  blindly  along  a  path  that  would  crush 
out  the  earlier  race  instincts.  It  was  not  possible  to  be 
both  dingers  and  Germans,  and  the  transformation  of 
thought  that  followed  the  conflict  of  these  elements  led 
to  the  Reformation. 

We  now  have  the  key  to  the  social  side  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. The  bettering  of  economic  conditions  in  the  fifteenth 
century  increased  the  evils  of  the  communal  pleasures  and 
also  improved  the  unity  and  intensity  of  family  life.  It 
thus  brought  communal  and  family  pleasures  into  marked 
contrast,  making  the  dissipation  of  the  former  a  crying 


98  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

evil.  Moreover,  north  Europe  had  enjoyed  peace  and 
good  government  for  so  long  that  peace  and  order  ceased 
to  be  of  prime  importance.  It  was  ready  to  undertake 
a  moral  crusade  to  limit  or  suppress  the  growing  dissipa- 
tion and  vice  that  threatened  family  life. 

Unfortunately  for  the  Church  it  was  lax  in  matters  of 
vice,  and  just  at  this  time  the  need  of  money  drove  the 
popes  into  the  sale  of  indulgences.  A  means  that  had 
been  designed  to  soften  the  harsh  punishment  of  crime 
was  used  to  reduce  the  already  meagre  penalties  for  vice. 
At  the  time  when  greater  punishment  for  vice  was  de- 
manded, the  Church  used  its  power  to  give  social  standing 
to  persons  against  whom  the  indignation  of  the  local 
communities  was  aroused.  A  moral  crusade,  that  would 
otherwise  have  found  vent  in  opposing  dissipation  and 
communal  pleasures,  was  turned  against  the  power  that 
made  these  evils  respectable  and  gave  to  those  who 
indulged  in  them  assurance  of  eternal  happiness.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  considerations  of  a  future  life,  morality 
could  have  gone  its  own  way  and  fought  its  own  battles; 
but  religion  had  too  strong  a  hold  for  men  to  care  much 
for  an  immediate  moral  disadvantage,  if  their  eternal  ad- 
vantage was  secured.  The  moral  wave  was  thus  turned 
against  the  Church,  and  new  religious  notions  were  created 
to  harmonize  with  the  moral  demands  of  the  time.  The 
civil  virtues  that  the  Church  had  inculcated  were  put 
to  the  test.  The  newer  virtues  —  humility,  submission, 
and  a  love  of  peace  —  were  contrasted  with  the  older 
virtues  of  independence  and  a  free  conscience.  A  rever- 
sion toward  the  older  type  of  character  set  in  and  morality 
was  restored  to  its  old  place.  Viewed  in  this  way,  the 
Reformation  was  the  opening  skirmish  in  the  war  which 
civilization  is  still  waging  against  vice.  Luther  had  high 
hopes  of  the  moral  regeneration  that  was  to  follow  his 
endeavours,  and  no  one  was  more  disappointed  than  he  at 
their  immediate   effects.     He  denounced  repeatedly  the 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT     99 

increasing  vice  about  him.  But  it  was  in  vain.  Not 
justification  by  faith,  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures, 
the  doctrine  of  election,  nor  any  new  belief  was  successful 
in  stemming  the  rising  tide  of  dissipation. 

Protestantism  was  no  cure  for  vice,  and  in  many  re- 
spects it  was  even  more  of  a  failure  than  the  old  religion, 
which  at  least  mitigated  the  evil.  After  an  erring  Catholic 
had  committed  some  dastardly  crime  a  half-dozen  times, 
he  had  a  heavenly  vision,  which  so  terrified  him  that  he 
left  his  evil  ways  and  sought  refuge  in  a  monastery  or 
expiated  his  crime  by  working  for  the  Church.  Protes- 
tantism had  no  such  hold  on  its  followers.  The  path  of 
vice  and  crime,  once  entered,  was  followed  to  its  legiti- 
mate end,  —  the  destruction  of  the  sinner.  There  was  no 
middle  ground  between  virtue  and  vice.  Either  virtue 
exerted  a  greater  restraining  influence  than  before,  or  the 
way  of  vice  was  followed  so  persistently  and  so  long  that 
the  resulting  weakness,  disease,  or  crime  eliminated  the 
evil-doer  from  society.  The  immediate  effect  of  Protes- 
tant liberty  was  bad,  because  it  left  the  violator  of  social 
standards  freer  to  follow  his  natural  inclinations.  The 
good  it  did  came  from  the  elimination  of  bad  elements 
in  society  after  they  had  run  their  natural  course.  The 
early  Church,  by  checking  vice  and  crime,  retained  the 
evil-doers  in  society  and  thus  prevented  the  elimination 
that  is  necessary  to  social  progress. 

.Social  evils  start  either  from  over-nutrition  or  from 
under-nutrition.  Lack  of  food  leads  to  violence,  war, 
and  crime.  A  plethora  of  food  results  in  over-stimula- 
tion, dissipation,  and  vice.  In  a  progressive  society  both 
extremes  must  be  avoided,  and  those  who  have  strong 
inclinations  toward  either  vice  or  crime  must  be  elimi- 
nated. Starvation  and  over-indulgence  are  the  two  forces 
that  rid  society  of  those  whose  inclinations  do  not  har- 
monize with  public  good.  Starvation,  disease,  and  simi- 
lar evils  rid  the  world  of  those  whose  productive  power 


100  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

is  too  small ;  vice  and  over-indulgence  remove  those 
whose  appetites  and  passions  are  coarse  and  crude.  The 
normal  man  must  reach  the  point  of  complete  nutri- 
tion to  avoid  one  group  of  evils,  but  he  cannot  pass  this 
point  without  falling  a  victim  to  the  other  group.  Thus 
a  particular  type  of  men  in  each  age  is  normal,  and  society- 
suffers  if  social  regulations,  ideas,  or  doctrines  prevent  the 
elimination  of  the  abnormal.  Protestantism  was  superior 
to  the  old  Church,  not  because  it  put  a  greater  restraint 
on  vice,  but  because  it  allowed  a  freer  elimination  of  the 
unfit.  More  sharply  contrasting  virtue  and  vice,  it  made 
it  harder  for  the  vicious  to  remain  an  integral  part  of 
society. 

Each  successive  age  thus  acquires  a  higher  standard  of 
morality,  but  the  struggle  with  the  vicious  is  more  severe, 
because  they  are  more  completely  severed  from  society 
and  less  interested  in  its  welfare.  Economic  progress 
is  also  accompanied  by  dissipation,  because  the  increased 
productive  power  allows  a  greater  satisfaction  of  bodily 
wants.  The  normal  man  of  the  new  conditions  must  have 
weaker  appetites  and  passions  and  a  greater  willingness 
to  use  his  productive  power  for  the  advantage  of  others. 
The  more  passionate  and  selfish  must  be  eliminated  to 
restore  an  equilibrium.  The  only  remedy  for  vice  is  elimi- 
nation. Those  ideals  that  represent  the  highest  type  of 
men  as  possessing  strong  appetites  and  passions  under  firm 
control  are  based  on  false  premises.  This  control  is  pos- 
sible only  in  primitive  conditions,  where  strong  appetites 
and  passions  are  necessary.  Such  primitive  notions  must 
be  displaced  by  sounder  ideals  before  steady  progress  is 
possible.  Protestantism,  born  at  a  time  of  moral  revival, 
and  influenced  by  early  ideals,  tried  to  do  an  impossible 
thing.  Luther  had  strong  sensual  inclinations,  and  tried 
to  harmonize  wine,  women,  and   festivals x  with  a  high 

1  Wein,  Weib,  und  Gesang. 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  101 

morality.  It  was  only  natural  that  he  should  fail,  and 
that  Protestantism  should  be  put  through  the  mill  of 
disaster  until  the  communal  part  of  this  programme  was 
replaced  by  quiet  home  pleasures,  outside  of  which  there 
is  no  sound  morality. 

Much  of  the  brutality  attributed  to  religious  zeal,  there- 
fore, was  in  reality  the  outcome  of  the  sensualism  that 
the  improved  economic  conditions  had  made  possible. 
The  new  ties  that  held  men  to  morality  were  largely  those 
of  family  life.  Those  who  preferred  the  more  convivial 
pleasures  of  public  places  were  left  freer  than  before  to  fol- 
low their  natural  bent.  A  class  of  men  arose  who  were  not 
restrained  by  the  ordinary  rules  of  life,  but  prided  them- 
selves on  their  liberty,  and  grasped  even  the  most  unscru- 
pulous means  of  satisfying  their  abnormal  cravings.  The 
discovery  of  America  opened  up  new  avenues  for  people  of 
this  class.  They  became  adventurers  and  fortune-seekers. 
A  taste  for  a  free,  untrammelled  life  once  acquired  soon 
spread  in  all  directions,  and  took  possession  of  all  the 
dissatisfied,  who  threw  off  the  old  restraints  and  entered 
on  careers  of  shameless  dissipation.  They  were  willing 
to  resort  to  desperate  means  to  secure  a  livelihood,  and  the 
breaking  up  of  old  social  conditions  offered  them  many 
openings.  The  new  armies  offered  on  land  a  career  fully 
as  adventurous  and  unrestrained  as  foreign  trade  offered 
at  sea.  The  use  of  gunpowder  had  broken  down  the  old 
military  system,  by  which  the  national  battles  were  fought 
by  men  of  honour  who  prided  themselves  on  their  chivalry. 
The  new  soldiers  followed  war  for  the  plunder  and  license 
it  permitted,  fighting  for  the  masters  that  paid,  and  will- 
ing to  change  sides  for  a  consideration.  Armies  were 
lawless  and  undisciplined,  and  devastated  the  countries 
they  conquered.  The  soldiery  of  the  fifteenth  and  six- 
teenth centuries  was  one  of  the  worst  scourges  ever  put 
upon  mankind.    The  musket  gave  the  control  of  the  world 


102  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

into  the  hands  of  brutes,  and  they  exploited  their  new 
power  to  the  utmost.  The  modern  soldier  is  the  product 
of  long  training  and  discipline. 

The  pressure  and  power  of  the  large  class  of  adventur- 
ers characterized  the  wars  and  struggles  that  followed  the 
Reformation.  Much  that  is  attributed  to  religious  zeal 
was  due  to  the  depravity  of  these  adventurers.  As  soon 
as  these  dogs  of  war  were  let  loose,  their  ravages  hardened 
the  spirit  of  every  one,  and  made  men  condone  outrages 
that  before  would  have  shocked  them.  The  humanitarian 
spirit  of  the  first  part  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  lost 
before  the  century  ended,  and  in  its  place  reigned  a  bitter, 
remorseless  spirit  that  would  have  done  credit  to  an  Indian 
tribe.  For  this  change  neither  the  Church  nor  religion 
was  responsible.  A  fortuitous  fate  had  combined  a  moral 
upheaval  with  a  sensual  reversion.  Both  were  due  to 
economic  conditions,  and  both  were  necessary  steps  to  the 
higher  levels  of  modern  society,  but  it  was  an  accident 
that  they  were  cotemporaneous.  There  was  not  the  slight- 
est connection  between  Protestantism  and  the  invention 
of  gunpowder  and  the  discovery  of  America.  Columbus 
and  Luther  might  have  done  their  work  centuries  apart ; 
gunpowder  might  have  come  to  western  Europe  in  some 
other  age.  Discovery  brought  the  evils  of  the  century  ; 
morality,  its  benefits.  Had  the  evils  got  a  little  more 
start  of  the  benefits,  the  history  of  subsequent  centuries 
would  have  been  very  different. 

The  Reformation  was  a  premature  movement  forced  on 
Europe  by  temporary  causes,  before  society  was  ready  for 
the  change.  It  became,  therefore,  involved  with  and 
subordinated  to  the  civil  changes  through  which  Europe 
was  then  passing.  The  time  was  ripe  for  the  economic 
development  of  northern  nations,  and  that  necessarily 
changed  the  balance  of  power  in  Europe.  The  north 
already  had  equal  economic  strength  and  greater  physical 
vigour  than  the  south,  and  in  any  case  would  have  been 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  103 

the  conqueror  in  the  inevitable  contest  between  the  new 
and  the  old. 

The  sensualism  aroused  by  the  new  economic  tendencies 
should  normally  have  led  to  a  fresh  invasion  of  the  south, 
for  the  sensual  always  move  towards  the  point  of  greatest 
economic  surplus.  The  German  conquests  of  the  first  cen- 
turies should  have  been  repeated,  German  civil  ideas  scat- 
tered throughout  Europe,  and  the  domination  of  the  State 
over  the  Church  asserted.  Columbus  and  Luther  pre- 
vented this  normal  progress  by  changing  the  local  envi- 
ronment of  western  Europe  into  a  world  environment. 
Columbus  brought  Europe  into  contact  with  new  nations 
and  problems,  while  Luther  made  nations  feel  the  force  of 
ideas  foreign  to  their  own  conditions.  By  this  I  mean 
that  Luther  always  reasoned  on  the  hypothesis  that  the 
primitive  Christians  were  the  ancestors  of  the  Germans 
of  his  day.  Thinking  of  himself  as  a  Christian  rather 
than  as  a  German,  he  assumed  that  the  Church  fathers 
were  race  fathers  as  well.  He  assumed  further  that  the 
lives  and  actions  of  these  Church  fathers  were  once  the 
standards  of  his  race,  and  that  moral  and  religious  purity 
demanded  a  return  to  these  early  standards.  But  the 
primitive  Church  did  not  offer  an  ideal  toward  which  the 
German  race  could  revert.  A  vigorous,  sensual  German 
could  not  be  turned  into  a  puny  ascetic.  Reversions 
move  toward  the  primitive  characteristics  of  the  race,  and 
not  along  the  line  of  religious  development.  For  the  lat- 
ter to  be  possible  a  religion  would  have  to  be  purely  in- 
digenous, without  any  mixture  of  foreign  ideas.  But  the 
Christian  religion  assimilated  by  the  German  of  that  day 
was  a  group  of  foreign  ideas  impressed  upon  the  German 
consciousness  by  the  pressure  of  economic  conditions.  The 
sensualism  of  the  German  people  was  not  caused  by  the 
Church  ;  it  lay  in  their  nature  and  was  sure  to  show  itself 
as  soon  as  economic  conditions  permitted.  The  false  idea 
of  parentage  inculcated  by  Luther  aided  him  in  his  con- 


104  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

test  with  the   Church,  and   caused   the   break   to   come 
earlier  than  it  normally  would  have  come. 

The  enlarged  physical  and  mental  environment  dis- 
turbed the  normal  development  of  Europe  and  changed 
the  natural  course  of  events.  The  discovery  of  America 
and  of  the  southern  passage  to  India  should  have  aided 
the  northern  more  than  the  southern  nations.  It  did  so 
ultimately,  and  would  have  done  so  immediately  but  for 
the  discovery  in  America  of  the  precious  metals.  Trade 
in  goods  with  America  and  Asia  helped  the  north  because 
the  foreign  goods  were  necessary  supplements  to  those 
at  home.  The  products  of  the  north  were  too  meagre  to 
create  a  high  civilization.  The  south,  however,  needed 
ready  money  to  hold  and  to  cement  the  power  that 
earlier  conditions  had  given  it.  Money  came  from  the 
new  regions  more  rapidly  than  goods,  and  thus  the  imme- 
diate effect  of  the  discoveries  was  to  strengthen  the  south 
and  to  weaken  the  north.  This  changed  the  direction  of 
the  sensualistic  movement  then  rising.  The  sensual  move 
naturally  toward  goods,  and  thus  they  ultimately  created 
the  international  trade  of  modern  times ;  but  for  the  time 
they  were  willing  to  serve  the  possessors  of  ready  money 
in  the  south,  selling  their  northern  heritage  for  a  mess 
of  pottage.  When  the  struggle  came  between  the  north 
and  the  south,  the  northern  sensualists  helped  pillage 
their  old  homes,  and  thus  the  south  invaded  the  north, 
although  normally  the  movement  should  have  been  in  the 
opposite  direction.  When  the  inflow  of  goods  counteracted 
the  inflow  of  money,  the  north  reasserted  its  supremacy 
and  the  Spanish  power  was  quickly  broken.  The  Refor- 
mation could  not  have  happened  at  a  more  unfortunate 
time.  Had  it  started  a  century  later,  the  power  of  the 
Church  would  have  been  as  completely  broken  as  was  the 
Spanish  power  with  which  it  was  associated.  The  reli- 
gious transformation  that  would  then  have  followed  would 
have  affected  all  parts  more  nearly  alike. 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  105 

The  difference  between  the  moral  and  the  sensual  wave 
of  the  fifteenth  century  must  be  clearly  recognized,  in 
order  to  see  what  was  the  legitimate  effect  of  each.  The 
moral  wave  would  not  of  itself  have  led  to  a  disruption  of 
the  Church.  The  economic  conditions  had  already  created 
great  differences  between  the  north  and  the  south  of 
Europe,  and  the  time  had  come  for  a  break-up  of  the  old 
German  Empire.  In  the  ensuing  struggle  the  sensual 
had  opportunity  to  show  their  qualities  and  to  exert 
their  energies.  The  Church  had  nothing  to  gain  and 
much  to  lose  by  taking  part  in  this  struggle,  while  in  a 
peaceful  contest  between  the  Protestant  and  the  Catho- 
lic forces,  the  latter  would  have  won.  Before  the  religious 
wars  began,  the  Catholics  had  already  regained  much  of 
the  ground  they  had  lost.  Protestantism,  being  a  moral 
movement  directed  against  particular  abuses,  would  natu- 
rally have  been  short-lived.  Even  in  the  most  rugged 
natures,  like  Luther's,  the  spirit  of  subordination  to  the 
Church  was  strong,  and  in  the  princes  and  the  common 
people  it  had  become  a  second  nature.  The  moral 
reformation  effected  by  the  Council  of  Trent  would  have 
satisfied  the  great  majority  of  the  Germans,  if  time  had 
been  given  them  to  perceive  how  the  new  morality  would 
work.  A  steady  pressure  on  a  nation  that  had  become 
dingers  by  instinct  would  have  gradually  won  them 
back  to  the  Catholic  creed.  Even  in  England,  where  the 
dinger  instincts  were  less  prevalent,  it  took  two  centuries 
to  make  the  people  Protestant  by  instinct.  The  old  feel- 
ings reasserted  themselves  at  every  national  crisis  and 
often  came  near  winning  the  day.  The  Catholics  needed 
peace  and  delay;  the  Protestants,  on  the  other  hand, 
needed  new  instincts  and  new  animosities  with  which  to 
counteract  the  old  regard  for  the  Church.  The  religious 
wars  created  the  necessary  new  feelings.  As  soon  as 
devastating,  sensual  armies  began  their  work,  all  hope  of 
religious  union  vanished. 


106  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

The  north  was  too  strong  to  be  conquered,  and  the 
mercenary  troops  that  fought  for  the  south,  having  no 
interest  in  Catholicism,  did  not  hesitate  to  tarnish  its 
good  name  for  their  private  ends.  The  rising  moral 
movement  in  the  old  Church  was  obscured  by  the  vices  of 
a  sensual  soldiery.  Thus  while  the  sensualism  of  the  age 
was  largely  of  northern  origin,  the  south  and  the  Catholic 
Church  had  to  bear  its  odium.  There  were  no  religious 
armies  in  those  days.  Cromwell's  army  was  the  first  to 
fight  for  principles,  and  to  reflect  in  their  actions  the 
religion  they  professed.  The  so-called  religious  wars  had 
no  religion  in  them.  They  were  merely  wasteful  methods 
of  ridding  society  of  its  sensualists,  only  equalled  since 
then,  perhaps,  by  the  crude  justice  of  mining  camps,  where 
the  peacefully  inclined  finally  gain  control  after  the 
sensual  have  killed  each  other  off.  The  religious  wars 
freed  Europe  of  much  of  its  sensualism,  but  they  left  a 
stain  on  religion,  and  caused  a  split  in  the  Church  which 
a  peaceful  development  would  have  prevented. 

I  state  these  conclusions  neither  in  a  spirit  of  regret 
over  the  shaping  of  events,  nor  as  an  idle  surmise  of  what 
might  have  been.  There  can  be  no  philosophic  interpre- 
tation of  history  unless  the  legitimate  effects  of  each 
cause  can  be  traced.  Only  confusion  results  from  judg- 
ing social  movements  by  the  subsequent  events,  which  are 
usually  the  effects  of  complex  causes,  of  which  the  given 
social  movement  was  only  a  subordinate  part.  In  judging 
the  sixteenth  century,  this  mode  of  reasoning  is  particu- 
larly unfortunate.  The  sensual  and  civil  interests  were 
so  dominant  that  their  effects  are  mistaken  for  the  natural 
results  of  a  moral  reaction  and  of  religious  zeal.  Early 
Protestantism  and  the  prejudices  and  hatreds  of  more 
recent  Protestants  are  the  abnormal  results  of  these  com- 
plex conditions.  It  has  taken  centuries  to  counteract  the 
effects  of  this  queer  combination  of  circumstances.  The 
normal  religion  and  morality  of  northern  nations  did  not 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT  107 

appear  until  much  later,  and  then  only  after  a  severe 
struggle  with  the  abnormal  types  of  thought  that  came 
out  of  the  confusion  of  the  Reformation  period.  It  is 
difficult  to  trace  normal  tendencies  amid  so  much  that 
is  abnormal.  In  this  case  it  could  not  be  done  if  it  had 
not  happened  that  English  history  and  development  were 
largely  isolated  from  those  of  the  rest  of  Europe.  I  shall, 
therefore,  turn  to  England,  and  in  the  progress  of  its 
national  thought  shall  try  to  show  how  the  abnormal  was 
gradually  weeded  out  and  the  normal  planted  in  its  place. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   CALVINISTS 

For  several  centuries  the  great  need  of  western  Europe 
was  peace,  and  the  common  impulses  created  by  this  first 
requisite  of  civilization  brought  the  Church  to  the  front  as 
the  one  institution  that  produced  the  conditions  of  prog- 
ress. But  when  this  end  had  been  attained,  and  the 
secondary  wants  of  each  nation  made  themselves  felt, 
there  was  no  longer  such  unanimity  in  the  desire  for 
peace  and  security.  The  dominant  needs  of  each  nation- 
ality began  to  shape  national  institutions.  There  was 
a  general  impulse  to  throw  off  the  restraints  of  the  old 
regime  ;  the  primitive  instincts  of  each  nation  asserted 
themselves,  and  caused  a  reversion  subordinating  the 
common  ideals  of  all  Europe  to  more  local  ones. 

Of  these  local  tendencies  three  are  worthy  of  note.  In 
the  south  the  aesthetic  spirit  became  dominant,  and  the 
reversion  was  toward  Greek  ideals.  In  Germany  a  moral 
reversion  asserted  itself ;  while  in  the  mountain  regions 
of  Switzerland  and  Scotland,  and  also  in  the  cities,  Cal- 
vinism found  a  home.  From  one  point  of  view  Lutheran- 
ism  might  be  called  a  phenomenon  of  the  plains,  and 
Calvinism  of  the  mountains  ;  from  another,  Lutheranism 
belongs  to  the  country,  Calvinism  to  the  towns  ;  from  a 
third,  it  might  be  said  that  the  Lutherans  are  Germans 
and  the  Calvinists  Celts.  None  of  these  statements  is 
altogether  true,  yet  they  show  the  deep  cleft  separating 
the  two  movements,  and  the  impossibility  of  any  perma- 
nent union.  In  reality,  there  was  no  Protestantism,  but 
two  separate  isms  that  appeared  at  the  same  time. 

108 


THE  CALVINISTS  109 

It  seems  strange  that  Calvinism  should  appeal  to  two 
social  classes  so  widely  separated  as  the  mountaineers  and 
the  city  artisans.  It  took  root  among  the  most  advanced 
and  among  the  least  advanced,  leaving  a  middle  class  to 
the  other  forms  of  Protestantism.  The  explanation  lies 
in  the  fact  that  Calvinism  is  congenial  to  those  in  whom 
the  clannish  spirit  is  strong.  Clans  are  closely  united 
groups,  that  think  of  themselves  not  as  common  beings,  but 
as  the  sons  of  some  one  who  exerts  special  powers  in  their 
favour.  Sonship  implies  a  position  of  honour  and  the  receiv- 
ing of  favours  that  are  denied  to  the  less  fortunate.  All 
who  are  not  sons  of  the  protector  are  looked  upon  as  exist- 
ing for  the  benefit  of  the  sons.  From  this  special  relation 
to  the  father,  the  sons  always  have  a  surplus  beyond  what 
their  merit  demands.  Outsiders,  however,  have  a  per- 
petual deficit ;  they  earn  more  than  they  receive,  and  have 
a  place  only  as  bondsmen  of  the  favourites.  A  clan  is  the 
earliest  form  of  sociocracy,  and  is  due  to  a  cleft  in  society 
by  which  some  get  a  surplus  and  possess  qualities  denied 
to  others.  The  clan  lives  on  its  inferiors,  who  are  without 
the  rights  of  sonship,  or  upon  its  neighbours,  who  are  looked 
upon  as  natural  prey.  No  clan  is  a  self-contained  integral 
unit ;  the  favoured  have  dependents  at  home  or  inferiors 
abroad  from  whom  tribute  is  due. 

Every  clan,  consequently,  has  a  strong  feeling  of  the 
solidarity  of  responsibility.  The  first  thought  must  be 
for  the  group.  The  favoured  position  can  be  maintained 
only  so  long  as  the  duties  of  sonship  are  fulfilled.  Viola- 
tions of  these  duties  are  severely  dealt  with,  for  the 
neglect  or  wrong-doing  of  any  member  may  inflict  a 
punishment  on  the  whole  group  and  a  loss  of  their  privi- 
leges. Every  privilege  implies  a  standard  to  which  all 
must  adhere,  and  every  favour  a  duty  it  is  a  sin  not  to 
fulfil.  Favours,  duties,  standards,  and  sins  are  thus  bound 
together,  and  without  them,  and  strong  feelings  to  enforce 
them,  no  clan  could  exist. 


110  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

Clannish  sentiments  and  ideas  are  natural  to  regions 
where  resources  are  limited  and  the  conflict  is  sharp  be- 
tween man  and  man,  or  between  groups  of  men.  The  few 
resources  at  hand  appear  as  gifts,  and  those  who  succeed 
in  appropriating  them  seem  to  be  favoured  by  higher 
powers.  Similar  feelings  were  developed  in  the  cities  of 
the  Middle  Ages  by  the  guild  system.  Artisans  were 
bound  together  in  groups,  just  as  are  the  members  of  a 
clan.  Each  guild  occupied  a  favoured  position  in  the  city, 
and  appropriated  to  its  own  use  a  large  part  of  the  social 
surplus.  At  home  the  members  were  surrounded  by  de- 
pendents ;  outlying  regions  they  exploited  by  trade  as 
fully  as  the  clans  did  their  inferior  neighbours  by  war. 
There  was  also  the  same  feeling  of  solidarity  of  interests. 
Each  member  of  the  guild  suffered  from  any  defect  or 
fault  of  the  others.  They  had  standards  to  maintain  and 
duties  to  perform  which  it  was  a  crime  to  neglect.  They 
felt  keenly  the  responsibility  their  privileges  gave,  and  ac- 
quired those  notions  of  superiority  and  common  interests 
that  create  a  sociocracy. 

Thus  two  quite  different  sets  of  conditions  had  the 
same  general  effect  on  character.  The  members  of  the 
clans  and  of  the  guilds  possessing  the  same  ideas  and 
feelings  were  attracted  by  the  same  scheme  of  reform. 
Calvinism  spread  where  one  or  the  other  of  these  was 
dominant,  reaching  its  limit  when  these  classes  had  been 
won  over  to  its  standard.  Only  the  privileged,  the  chosen 
ones,  the  elect,  became  Calvinists.  The  ordinary  man,  who 
took  the  world  as  it  came,  felt  no  special  responsibility  in 
maintaining  race  standards,  and  so  was  not  drawn  to  Cal- 
vinism. No  one  who  thinks  he  earns  what  he  gets,  and 
that  he  can  do  as  he  pleases  with  his  own,  ever  becomes  a 
Calvinist.  A  self-made,  self-reliant  man,  if  he  is  to  reach 
heaven,  must  travel  by  some  other  road.  The  Calvinist 
believes  he  has  more  than  he  deserves,  and  because  he  is 
so  favoured  he  must  put  upon  himself  certain  restraints 


THE  CALVINISTS  111 

that  would  not  otherwise  be  demanded.  With  exceptional 
privileges  go  exceptional  duties,  and  he  must  be  as  zealous 
in  finding  the  one  as  in  enjoying  the  other.  His  first 
thought  is  of  the  duties  these  privileges  impose,  and  in 
this  he  differs  from  the  German,  whose  first  thought  is 
of  the  morality  of  acts.  Privileges  are  gifts  ;  morals  are 
rights  that  depend  on  an  adjustment  to  nature  and  a  will- 
ingness on  the  part  of  every  one  to  meet  the  natural  con- 
ditions, and  to  take  his  share  of  benefits  and  evils  alike. 
A  Calvinist,  however,  expects  more  than  his  share  of 
nature's  products,  and  in  return  he  is  willing  to  conform 
to  the  conditions  that  the  giver  of  these  favours  sets.  He 
wants  first  of  all,  not  the  moral  rules  of  the  natural  world, 
but  the  law  and  will  of  his  superior.  He  assumes  that 
conditions  are  attached  to  favours,  and  he  searches  for 
manifestations  of  the  higher  power  from  which  they  come. 
He  studies,  therefore,  not  Nature  but  Will,  and  assumes 
that  its  expression  is  so  plain  that  it  can  become  a  guide 
to  duty. 

The  Calvinistic  attitude  is  at  bottom  not  moral,  but 
legal.  It  was  not  an  accident  that  Calvin  had  been  edu- 
cated for  the  bar.  No  one  without  legal  instincts  would 
have  developed  such  a  system  as  his,  nor  could  any  other 
system  have  had  the  influence  his  had  with  the  peculiar 
classes  for  which  Calvinism  has  a  charm.  It  is  sometimes 
said  that  the  difference  between  Luther  and  Calvin  is, 
that  the  one  assumes  that  he  can  do  anything  the  Bible 
does  not  forbid,  while  the  other  asserts  that  nothing 
should  be  done  that  the  Bible  does  not  expressly  com- 
mand. Luther  expected  to  be  taught  by  nature  and  to 
conform  to  nature,  except  where  divine  revelation  had 
given  a  higher  law  ;  he  thought  the  instincts  and  the 
appetites  of  men  were  sound,  and  would  guide  them  in 
the  ordinary  affairs  of  life.  Lutheranism,  therefore,  held 
that  there  was  a  large  group  of  acts  outside  the  bounds 
of  religion  to  which  the  moral  code  alone  applied.     Cal- 


112  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

vinism  recognized  no  such  indifferent  acts.  God's  law 
applied  to  every  phase  of  conduct.  The  covenant  between 
Him  and  His  favoured  children,  argued  Calvin,  contains 
the  rules  by  which  the  privileges  of  sonship  are  to  be  re- 
tained, and  these  rules,  when  studied  and  developed,  will 
apply  to  every  situation  in  which  a  son  finds  himself. 
For  the  sons,  therefore,  the  natural  rules  of  living  are 
superseded  by  God's  more  definite  ones,  which,  properly 
interpreted,  will  always  afford  a  rule  of  action.  In  this 
way  the  legal  instincts  of  Calvin  found  expression.  A 
lawyer  assumes  that  there  is  always  a  rule  whereby  to 
settle  a  disputed  point.  Courts  never  throw  out  cases 
because  the  established  rules  will  not  apply.  Calvin, 
acting  on  the  same  plan,  found  in  the  Scriptures  rules 
suited  to  every  act  and  situation.  Decisions  could  be 
based  on  the  original  covenant  between  God  and  man, 
just  as  a  court  draws  its  decisions  from  the  general  prin- 
ciples of  inherited  law  or  the  original  civil  contract 
between  man  and  man. 

Before  ideas  can  take  root,  especially  in  a  foreign  land, 
the  soil  must  have  been  prepared  by  the  presence  of  suit- 
able economic  institutions  and  activities.  Bold  and  ideal- 
istic as  was  the  scheme  of  Calvin,  yet  it  was  the  natural 
outgrowth  of  the  economic  ideas  of  the  age,  and  can  be 
readily  traced  to  such  an  origin.  The  activities  of  the 
people  had  formed  a  peculiar  race  psychology,  and  this 
psychology  was  used  to  propagate  certain  social  and 
religious  concepts  and  ideals. 

Here  again  we  find  an  illustration  of  the  fact  that 
motor  reactions  formed  by  the  economic  pressure  of  pre- 
ceding ages  may  be  appropriated  for  higher  ends.  Primi- 
tive men  differ  from  modern  men  in  having  an  enlarged 
concept  of  self.  This  self  expands  or  contracts  according 
to  the  circumstances  under  which  men  live.  There  may  be 
a  synthetic  self,  so  enlarged  that  everything  seems  a  part 


THE   CALVINISTS  113 

of  it.  Man  then  identifies  himself  with  all  things  agree- 
able or  useful.  Again,  an  analytic  self  is  dominant,  and 
men  put  so  much  into  the  non-self  that  the  self  becomes  a 
mere  abstract  concept  with  no  material  accompaniment. 
Neither  of  these  extreme  positions  is  often  taken.  Men 
usually  identify  themselves  with  their  bodies,  and  with 
whatever  in  their  environment  is  essential  to  their  needs 
and  prosperity.  The  ordinary  man  is  not  bound  by  any 
philosophical  system,  but  draws  the  line  between  the 
self  and  the  non-self  according  to  his  practical  needs. 
As  a  rule,  however,  this  line  is  fixed  by  the  immediate 
environment,  which  determines  what  things  are  so  closely 
coupled  with  the  self  that  a  contrast  is  useless,  and  what 
things  are  so  adverse  that  a  contrast  is  essential  to  pros- 
perity or  even  to  existence. 

The  self  of  man  was  more  synthetic  than  analytic  in 
these  earlier  days,  and  consequently  the  goods  essential  to 
welfare  were  thought  of,  not  as  things,  but  as  qualities  of 
men.  A  man  was  not  a  man  unless  he  had  certain  pos- 
sessions, tools,  or  supplies.  To  be  hospitable  implied  a 
stock  of  goods  ;  to  be  efficient  implied  certain  tools  ;  to  be 
a  warrior  implied  the  possession  of  arms ;  to  be  a  free  man 
indicated  the  ownership  of  land.  People  did  not  think  of 
men  plus  their  possessions  ;  the  attention  was  concentrated 
on  the  man,  and  the  accessories  were  regarded  as  his  quali- 
ties. When,  for  example,  we  think  of  a  painted  house, 
we  have  a  thing  and  a  quality ;  but  when  we  speak  of  a 
house  covered  with  paint,  we  have  two  things  in  mind. 
In  the  first  case  the  paint  has  lost  its  identity  and  become 
absorbed  in  the  concept  of  a  house  ;  in  the  second  case  it 
remains  an  independent  thing.  So  in  the  terms  "  warrior  " 
and  "  knight "  the  arms  and  the  horse  have  lost  their 
identity  and  have  become  mere  qualities.  A  warrior 
without  arms  is  not  a  warrior,  nor  is  a  knight  who  is 
horseless  a  knight.  They  become  something  else  by 
losing  the  quality  of  having  arms  or  a  horse.     A  freeman 


114  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

is  not  a  non-slave ;  the  word  is  a  contraction  for  a  free- 
holding  man.  A  freeman  was  more  than  a  tramp.  There 
was  a  state  below  him  which  he  shuddered  to  think  of 
entering.  His  character  and  social  position  depended 
upon  his  arms,  tools,  lands,  or  other  possessions.  With- 
out these  objective  qualities  he  ceased  to  be  a  man  and 
became  a  slave,  a  serf,  a  labourer,  —  that  is,  something 
less  than  a  freeman.  No  one  thought  of  himself  as  a 
man,  but  as  a  weaver,  a  farmer,  or  a  warrior.  The  tools, 
stocks,- and  external  paraphernalia  of  each  determined  the 
class  into  which  he  was  put,  and  a  change  in  the  char- 
acter, quality,  or  amount  of  these  externalities  altered  the 
class  of  their  possessor. 

We  have  all  read  in  Mother  Goose  of  the  old  woman 
who  thought  she  must  be  somebody  else,  because  while 
she  slept  some  one  cut  off  the  bottom  of  her  petticoats. 
Strange  as  this  mental  attitude  may  appear,  it  was  the 
prevalent  one  in  earlier  times.  Not  only  the  petticoat, 
but  the  ornaments  of  the  head,  the  colour  and  the  cut  of 
the  clothes,  and  other  minor  details  helped  to  determine 
the  personality  of  the  wearer.  The  internal  created  the 
external.  As  character  revealed  itself  by  its  objective 
accompaniments,  it  was  thought  to  have  changed  if  there 
was  a  change  in  its  external  indices.  That  a  man  is 
a  man  in  spite  of  externals  is  a  democratic  concept 
which  our  forefathers  lacked.  They  could  not  conceive 
of  a  man  apart  from  the  social  status  that  his  goods 
created  for  him.  Under  these  conditions  a  man's  goods 
are  an  index  to  his  character,  for  it  is  assumed  that 
they  partake  of  his  nature,  and  would  be  different  if  his 
character  were  other  than  it  is.  These  goods  are  sup- 
posed to  be  of  his  workmanship,  and  reflect,  therefore,  the 
character  of  him  who  made  them.  A  defect  in  the  goods 
of  a  man  reveals,  it  is  thought,  a  defect  in  his  character. 
Before  the  period  of  exchange,  the  goods  and  possessions 
of  a  man  gave  an  accurate  account  of  his  energy  and  skill. 


THE  CALVINISTS  115 

Each  tool,  horse,  and  farm  was  a  monument  to  its  pos- 
sessor, and  its  qualities  and  appearance  enabled  others  to 
measure  the  man  who  created  and  owned  it.  Each  one 
prided  himself  on  the  superiority  of  his  goods,  and  felt 
hurt  and  degraded  if  others  did  not  recognize  the  virtue 
of  the  owner  in  the  excellence  of  what  he  produced  and 
owned. 

This  feeling  that  the  products  and  possessions  of  a  man 
measure  his  excellence  is  strong  even  at  the  present 
time.  "  How  far  does  my  land  go  ?  "  repeated  a  farmer, 
indignantly.  "  Just  as  far  as  the  weeds  are  cut  by  the 
roadside."  This  man  measured  his  character  by  the  per- 
fection of  the  productive  instrument  he  used.  His  farm 
was  of  his  own  making,  and  he  believed  himself  as  much 
superior  to  his  neighbours  as  his  farm  was  superior  to 
theirs.  He  could  not  put  himself  in  the  same  category 
with  those  whose  instruments  of  production  were  inferior 
to  his.  He  thus  created  a  sociocracy  of  character  to 
which  no  one  could  rise,  unless  by  an  equal  superiority  of 
goods.  The  woman's  character  is  reflected  in  the  home- 
keeping  even  more  than  the  man's  in  his  occupation. 
The  woman  who  looks  at  the  shirt-bosom  of  a  neighbour's 
husband  to  see  if  it  is  clean  does  so  with  the  idea  that 
poor  washing  and  ironing  reflect  upon  the  character  of 
the  laundress.  The  wearer  of  the  offending  shirt  is  not 
lowered  in  her  estimation,  but  her  blame  falls  entirely  on 
the  untidy  housewife. 

This  mental  attitude  of  the  Middle  Ages  is  so  different 
from  the  prevalent  modern  one  that  it  is  hard  to  put 
ourselves  in  the  place  of  primitive  men  and  see  their 
economic  belongings  in  the  light  that  they  did.  Now  all 
look  at  goods  from  the  capitalist's  standpoint.  To  him, 
goods  are  a  moving  series  of  things,  of  which  the  particu- 
lars are  of  no  interest  except  in  their  power  to  multiply. 
If  inferior  articles  yield  a  more  rapid  rate  of  increase,  a 
capitalist  has  no  objection  to  exchanging  better  things  for 


116  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

them,  and  if  he  did  not  make  the  exchange  his  neighbours 
would  think  less  of  him.  His  goods  have  thus  become 
mere  objects  that  do  not  in  any  way  reflect  the  character 
of  their  owner.  A  labourer  has  also  become  a  mere  man, 
who  loses  nothing  by  the  lack  of  tools  or  of  goods.  He 
takes  what  is  given  him  by  his  employer,  works  for 
economy  instead  of  excellence,  and  feels  in  no  way  identi- 
fied with  the  product  of  his  efforts.  A  mere  workman  is 
thus  the  complement  of  a  capitalist  with  mere  goods. 
Industry  was  formerly  carried  on  by  persons  whose  per- 
sonality was  so  prominent  that  their  products  were 
viewed  merely  as  qualities  showing  the  character  of  the 
worker.  The  industry  and  the  workman  were  one  and 
the  same.  Now  there  are  three  distinct  elements  :  mere 
workmen  called  labourers,  mere  things  called  goods,  and 
mere  savers  called  capitalists.  The  earlier  industrial 
state  can  be  best  named  "  frugalism,"  because  that  quality 
was  the  general  characteristic  of  industrial  activity.  The 
frugalist  has  an  interest  in  all  he  possesses,  makes  his 
possessions  reflect  his  personality,  and  feels  degraded  if  he 
lacks  anything  necessary  to  complete  industrial  indepen- 
dence. This  enlarged  personality  must  be  destroyed,  and 
the  elements  that  made  it  objectified,  before  the  indus- 
trial world  can  be  transformed  into  labourers,  savers,  and 
capitalists. 

There  was  nothing  our  ancestors  so  despised  as  being 
merely  men.  A  mere  man  was  a  beggar,  a  vagrant,  a 
thief,  or  even  worse.  Every  one  thought  of  himself  as  a 
farmer,  a  weaver,  or  a  smith,  because  character  always 
transformed  a  mere  man  into  something  better.  The 
natural  man  was  depraved,  vicious,  and  sensual ;  the 
favoured  man  was  upright,  and  possessed  the  character 
that  the  natural  man  lacked.  Later,  as  men  grew  more 
analytic,  this  favoured  man  became  an  artificial  concept. 
The  natural  man,  unrestrained  by  character,  heredity,  or 
social   environment,  now  becomes   the  ideal ;    nature  is 


THE  CALVINISTS  117 

man's  only  teacher,  and  his  own  instincts  are  his  only 
guide.  When  all  these  new  concepts  have  been  acquired, 
society  is  ready  for  a  capitalistic  regime,  but  even  if 
we  like  this  latter  state  better  than  that  of  our  ances- 
tors, we  must  not  forget  that  many  of  our  highest  con- 
cepts and  ideals  are  based  on  their  views  of  the  industrial 
world. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  Reformation  in  England  was  due 
to  three  sets  of  ideas  :  frugalistic  concepts,  the  feeling  of  the 
solidarity  of  responsibility,  and  the  influence  of  the  Bible. 
The  first  was  acquired  from  the  immediate  economic  en- 
vironment, the  second  was  inherited,  the  third  imported. 
To  put  the  same  facts  in  another  way,  the  Reformation  was 
the  result  partly  of  economic,  partly  of  moral,  and  partly 
of  legal  ideas.  The  first  two  were  indigenous  ;  the  last 
was  foreign.  The  Bible  did  not  create  a  new  concept  of 
morality.  The  revolution  resulting  from  its  translation 
was  at  first  confined  to  law  and  government.  Only  after 
it  had  transformed  men's  ideas  in  these  fields  did  it  make 
its  influence  felt  in  other  quarters. 

To  understand  the  influence  of  the  Bible,  it  should  be 
remembered  that  its  translation  and  general  use  was  one 
of  the  first  results  of  the  art  of  printing.  It  became 
at  once  a  primer,  a  history,  and  a  law  book.  Previ- 
ously, people  had  obtained  their  ideas  either  by  talking  or 
observing,  their  history  from  tradition,  and  their  law  from 
custom.  To  all  these  fields  a  new  avenue  was  opened 
through  the  printed  page,  which  was  regarded  as  sacred 
because  representative  of  the  Holy  Writ.  Previously,  the 
evidence  presented  by  the  senses  had  the  highest  value,  the 
customs  and  traditions  of  a  race  came  second,  while  writ- 
ten records  took  a  third  place.  This  order  was  now 
reversed,  and  the  written  word  assumed  an  importance 
surpassing  what  men  saw  or  heard.  The  wise  fathers  of 
the  race,  with  their  legacy  of  customs  and  traditions,  sank 


118  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

into  insignificance  before  the  interpreters  of  a  printed 
text  translated  from  a  foreign  tongue. 

The  art  of  printing  made  possible  a  new  way  of  acquir- 
ing ideas.  In  reading,  ideas  arise  not  by  the  direct  pres- 
entation of  objects,  but  by  arbitrary  signs  that  arouse 
associated  mental  images.  No  person  can  obtain  ideas 
readily  from  a  printed  page  unless  his  mental  associations 
have  created  groups  of  ideas  so  well  cemented  together 
that  the  arbitrary  sign  exciting  one  of  them  brings  up  the 
whole  group.  In  actual  sight  each  of  the  various  stimuli 
arouses  its  proper  idea,  and  thus  the  act  of  uniting  them 
into  one  vision  is  simple,  even  if  the  objects  in  the  vision 
are  complex  and  multitudinous.  In  reading  there  are  no 
such  aids.  A  single  weak  stimulus  must  arouse  a  group  of 
ideas  and  blend  them  into  a  unity  as  readily  and  as  quickly 
as  the  many  stronger  stimuli  do  in  the  case  of  sight. 

This  can  be  done  only  by  a  change  and  development  of 
the  mental  mechanism.  There  must  be  a  multitude  of 
ready-made,  vivid  associations  capable  of  being  visualized 
in  a  body  as  soon  as  any  one  of  them  arises.  The  mental 
mechanism  of  a  reader  must  be  of  a  higher  order  than  that 
of  a  mere  beholder,  and  his  mental  reactions  prompter  and 
more  vivid,  in  order  to  make  up  for  the  greater  weakness 
of  the  stimuli.  The  differences  between  mental  pictures 
excited  by  words  and  those  excited  by  colour  any  one  can 
recognize.  To  see  colours,  intellectual  activity  must  be 
stopped  to  permit  the  full  activity  of  the  senses.  The 
intellect  does  little  ;  the  senses  do  much.  In  other  words, 
to  see  well,  mental  associations  must  be  broken  up  and 
only  the  more  animal  attribute  of  attention  developed. 
The  reader,  on  the  contrary,  must  develop  and  clarify 
these  intellectual  associations,  and  by  visualizing  them  in 
groups  make  them  vivid  enough  to  become  motor  stimuli. 

The  reader  and  the  observer  differ  mentally  as  well  as 
externally.  The  one  has  a  stock  of  ready-made  associa- 
tions.    Ideas  come  forward  in  groups  and  in  a  fixed  order, 


THE  CALVINISTS  119 

whenever  any  member  of  the  group  is  excited.  The  ideas 
of  the  other  come  only  in  the  order  that  he  has  seen  things 
in  nature,  and  he  can  picture  things  only  as  he  has  actu- 
ally seen  them.  The  actual  and  the  historical  represented 
in  the  present  are  to  him  the  important  verities,  which  he 
reverences,  and  from  which  he  would  think  it  a  crime  to 
deviate.  The  observer  became  the  Cavalier,  and  the 
reader  the  Puritan.  The  Cavalier  had  seen  the  king  and 
the  courts,  the  bishops  and  the  cathedrals,  and  he  could 
not  picture  these  other  than  they  were.  The  very  details 
and  externalities  seemed  vital  parts  of  the  institution,  for 
through  them  he  had  acquired  his  ideas,  and  without  them 
king,  court,  or  bishop  had  no  reality.  The  king  said  "  no 
bishop  no  king,"  because  he  had  never  seen  a  king  without 
a  bishop  ;  his  followers  added  other  details  to  the  picture 
and  held  them  all  to  be  essential.  Words  and  books  were 
the  only  means  by  which  other  pictures  could  be  formed. 
The  king  and  his  followers,  who  lacked  the  power  to 
acquire  ideas  in  this  way,  came  into  conflict  with  the 
book  readers,  who  could  visualize  what  they  had  not  seen. 
The  Puritan  had  not  seen  the  King  he  served.  The 
law  he  respected  and  the  government  he  admired  had 
been  in  actual  operation  only  in  a  distant  land  and  at  a 
much  earlier  date.  Neither  had  an  actual  present  being. 
The  record  of  their  successes  and  failures  could  be  learned 
only  from  a  book  that  told  of  a  race  which  had  long  since 
lost  its  political  identity.  The  court  by  which  the  Puri- 
tan expected  to  be  judged  no  man  had  seen,  or  could  see 
until  the  day  of  final  judgment.  Yet  the  Puritan  derived 
a  vivid  concept  of  this  court  from  the  sacred  book.  His 
religious  ideals  were  word  pictures  illustrating  things  and 
ideas  so  foreign  to  English  conditions  that  ordinary  sense 
impressions  could  not  originate  them.  The  Bible  thus 
encouraged  the  development  of  a  new  type  of  men,  in- 
spired by  the  vivid  word  pictures  of  the  Old  Testament. 
The   law,   the   government,    and    the    social   life   of   the 


120  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

Hebrews  all  have  a  picturesque  clearness,  with  the  prin- 
ciples so  prominent  and  their  corollaries  so  plain  that 
they  can  be  readily  applied  to  other  conditions  and  in 
other  places.  It  is  no  wonder  that  these  word  visualists 
found  in  the  Old  Testament  a  rule  for  every  action,  and 
that  their  conception  of  God's  government  and  final  judg- 
ment was  so  vivid  as  to  discredit  the  actual  government 
of  England,  that  had  nothing  but  tradition  and  custom  to 
support  it. 

Calvinism  came  into  England  as  a  complement  of  two 
qualities  so  ingrained  in  the  English  people  as  to  become 
a  second  nature.  The  frugalistic  concepts  had  given  them 
an  enlarged  personality,  and  a  feeling  that  their  actions 
were  a  part  of  themselves  and  an  index  of  their  character. 
They  had  also  a  strong  feeling  of  the  solidarity  of  respon- 
sibility, which  emphasized  the  evils  inflicted  on  the  whole 
people  by  the  wrong  acts  of  individuals  and  the  need  of 
national  unity.  The  unity  of  the  people  and  the  character 
of  the  individual  were  concepts  too  vivid  to  need  further 
emphasis.  The  people  had,  however,  very  hazy  ideas  of 
how  to  preserve  individual  character  and  to  avoid  national 
injury  from  individual  depravity.  Inherited  customs, 
habits,  and  laws  were  no  longer  suited  to  existing  needs. 
They  neither  set  high  standards  for  character  nor  checked 
the  growth  of  sensualism.  In  this  situation  the  central 
thought  of  Calvin's  theology  —  the  covenant  between  God 
and  man — supplied  a  pressing  want.  It  defined  what  were 
the  highest  standards  of  purity,  and  it  laid  down  rules  by 
which  the  evils  of  human  depravity  could  be  avoided. 
Through  the  concrete  picture  suggested  by  the  thought 
of  a  covenant,  law  became  objectified,  unified,  and  visual- 
ized, and  was  no  longer  regarded  as  the  creation  of  capri- 
cious sovereigns  or  the  heritage  from  antiquated  customs. 
The  law  is  not  a  thing  to  be  made,  but  to  be  discovered 
and  expounded.  Calvin  wisely  held  fast  to  this  thought, 
and  enforced  it  with  such  vigour  that  it  became  a  vivid 


THE   CALVINISTS  121 

concept  to  all  his  followers.  In  this  way  he  not  only 
created  a  new  ideal,  but  he  also  strengthened  the  power 
of  visualizing,  and  thus  assisted  in  transforming  the  Bible 
into  a  series  of  word  pictures. 

The  Puritan  creed  was  not  merely  a  series  of  logical 
propositions  demonstrated  by  quotations  from  the  Bible, 
but  a  group  of  pictures  aroused  by  words  which,  when 
visualized,  were  as  real  as  external  facts.  The  Puritan 
made  the  power  of  visualizing  the  test  of  truth.  He 
never  doubted  what  he  saw  clearly ;  a  vision  was  an 
inspiration.  A  logical  proposition,  it  is  true,  forms  the 
foreground  of  each  one  of  his  creed  pictures,  yet  there 
is  a  background  as  well,  which  a  mere  logician  is  likely 
to  overlook.  The  background  is  as  important  in  a  word 
picture  as  in  a  colour  picture,  and  modifies  its  meaning 
fully  as  much.  No  one  would  regard  a  striking  group  of 
colours  as  beautiful  unless  they  were  modified  and  har- 
monized by  the  dimmer  outlines  behind  them.  So  with 
creed  pictures ;  the  logical  proposition  in  the  foreground 
may  be  impressed  with  vigour  and  stand  out  as  clearly  as 
do  the  vivid  colours  in  the  paintings  of  a  modern  impres- 
sionist. But  this  is  not  all.  There  are  other  truths 
faintly  outlined,  yet  so  closely  related  to  the  main  propo- 
sition that  they  blend  with  it  and  modify  its  meaning, 
making  the  whole  a  vivid,  harmonious  picture  that  be- 
comes a  motive  to  action  and  an  inspiration  to  a  higher 
life.  Dead  creeds  only  are  hardening  and  narrowing. 
In  judging  the  Puritans  we  forget  the  freshness  of  their 
creed  and  the  nearness  which  they  felt  to  God.  God's 
people,  His  law,  His  final  judgment,  the  fall  of  man,  and 
similar  concepts  were  all  painted  in  fitting  words  and 
made  so  vivid  that  they  became  real.  If  even  Hume,  a 
century  later,  made  vividness  a  test  of  truth  we  cannot 
blame  the  Puritans  for  accepting  this  test  at  a  time  when 
word  visualization  was  so  new  that  it  seemed  like  a  reve- 
lation.     The   long   sermons   to   which   they   listened   so 


122  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

eagerly  did  not  become  dry  and  tedious  until  a  new  gen- 
eration had  grown  up,  who  were  so  familiar  with  the  new 
creed  and  its  pictures  that  they  did  not  need  that  descrip- 
tion in  detail  required  by  their  fathers. 

Word  picturing  has  become  such  a  matter  of  course  and 
has  been  used  in  so  many  ways  that  it  has  lost  its  peculiar 
attractions.  We  should  not  forget,  however,  that  the 
Puritan  was  the  first  form  of  the  modern  stalwart,  and 
that  he  deserves  attention  on  this  account  as  well  as  for 
the  revolution  his  advent  created.  As  a  revolutionist  he 
failed,  at  least  partially ;  but  as  a  stalwart  his  success  was 
permanent.  Ideals  and  word  pictures  have  transformed 
modern  life,  and  made  men  more  earnest  than  they  could 
have  been  if  colour  pictures  and  other  appeals  to  the 
senses  had  remained  as  dominant  as  they  were  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  colour  sense  in  the  northern  nations 
was  too  little  developed  to  be  used  as  a  means  for  their 
elevation.  Without  the  new  method  of  visualization  they 
would  have  remained  stupid  sensualists,  with  no  higher 
thoughts  than  those  excited  by  greed  or  fear. 

When  the  visualizing  power  of  the  Puritan  is  coupled 
with  the  enlarged  sense  of  personality  that  the  economic 
pressure  of  preceding  ages  had  created,  the  reason  for  his 
opposition  to  vice  becomes  apparent.  During  its  su- 
premacy the  Church  had  exerted  its  energies  against 
crime.  The  uplifted  hand,  the  dagger,  the  falling  victim, 
create  definite  sense  impressions,  and  a  feeling  of  horror 
at  such  deeds  may  be  instilled  into  the  simplest  minds. 
Vice,  however,  lies  not  in  a  single  act,  but  in  relations 
between  a  series  of  acts.  One  cannot  see  vice  as  he  sees 
crime.  Each  act  by  itself  might  be  innocent  and  proper, 
and  yet  a  series  of  them  might  become  a  heinous  vice. 
No  cup  of  wine,  no  single  movement  in  a  dance,  no  play, 
:sport,  or  game  is  of  itself  bad.  Vice  is  a  mixture,  —  a 
series  of   inharmonious   relations ;    it  is   a  stain   on  the 


THE   CALVINISTS  123 

character  rather  than  an  injury  to  the  person  of  the  actor. 
To  see  vice,  therefore,  one  must  first  visualize  character 
and  be  able  to  blend  into  one  picture  the  long  series  of 
acts  that  constitute  vice.  If  there  is  no  consciousness  of 
character  there  is  no  consciousness  of  vice.  No  one  ever 
saw  character  ;  it  is  but  a  word  picture.  The  same  is 
true  of  vice,  which  comes  into  being  only  when  men  are 
able  to  picture  a  long  series  of  events  and  perceive  the 
evils  that  flow  from  them. 

To  the  Puritan  vice  was  no  abstract  concept  founded 
on  definition,  but  the  series  of  concrete  acts  that  lowered 
and  defiled  his  ideals.  Many  bad  things  escaped  the 
notice  of  the  Puritans,  but  they  guarded  with  zealous  care 
their  homes  and  their  relations  to  God.  Heretofore  people 
had  houses,  but  no  homes.  Home  is  not  an  aggregate  of 
goods  possessed,  a  mere  sum  of  material  things,  but  a  con- 
cept due  to  the  existence  of  certain  relations,  depending 
even  more  on  what  is  not  there  than  upon  things  present. 
In  fact,  the  essence  of  the  Puritan  concept  of  a  home  lay 
in  the  not-theres ;  for  man  made  a  home  mainly  by  keep- 
ing out  of  other  social  relations.  There  is  no  tyrant  like 
a  home,  nothing  else  demands  such  implicit  obedience.  A 
home  must  also  be  distinguished  from  a  family.  The 
original  family  was  a  clan,  a  unit  that  presented  a  solid 
front  to  strangers,  but  had  loose  and  unsatisfactory  in- 
ternal relations.  The  welfare  of  the  whole  prevented  the 
concentration  of  interest  on  the  smaller  groups  which  is 
necessary  for  their  development. 

To  the  external  world  the  clan  was  made  up  of  fighters ; 
viewed  internally,  its  members  were  feasters,  revellers,  and 
often  brutal  sportsmen.  When  clans  were  united  into  a 
nation  they  lost  their  fighting  qualities,  yet  their  type  con- 
tinued in  the  communal  pleasures  that  were  the  life  and 
joy  of  each  locality.  The  old  clannish  feelings  clustered 
about  festivals  and  fairs,  and  were  kept  alive  by  them. 
The  thought  of  a  home  does  not  come  from  these  sources  ; 


124  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

it  is  created  by  a  mental  process  that  excludes  all  these 
elements.  Both  economically  and  socially  the  home  and 
the  communal  life  stand  opposed  to  each  other.  Economi- 
cally, because  the  income  spent  at  the  fair  and  the  festival 
is  demanded  by  the  home ;  socially,  because  the  pleasures 
of  these  places  lower  men's  standards  and  taint  the  purer 
atmosphere  of  the  home.  Its  more  intimate  relations 
demanded  a  total  abstinence  from  the  coarser  pleasures  in 
which  the  communal  life  abounded.  As  soon,  therefore, 
as  economic  conditions  made  English  homes  possible,  the 
seeds  of  Puritanism  were  sown.  Little  by  little  the  antith- 
esis between  the  home  and  communal  life  grew  stronger, 
until  at  length  a  fierce  hatred  arose  between  the  classes. 

The  country  of  the  Puritans  was  not  England,  but  a 
pictured  gathering  of  God's  elect.  The  concept  of  a 
country  as  a  stretch  of  land  comes  later,  when  men  get 
their  ideas  through  geographies.  The  people  who  visual- 
ized themselves  as  standing  in  God's  presence  and  judged 
by  his  laws  needed  no  such  material  background.  In 
this  intimate  thought  of  God  the  old  concept  of  the  unity 
of  the  clan  is  enlarged  and  put  to  a  new  use.  Under 
God's  judgment  the  people  are  as  one  man.  Here,  as  of 
yore,  the  solidarity  of  responsibility  is  a  vivid  reality. 
God's  wrath  falls  not  on  men,  but  on  the  people ;  every 
one  suffers  from  violations  of  the  covenanted  law.  God- 
sent  calamities  are  natural,  and  the  innocent  suffer  with 
the  guilty.  This  vivid  concept  of  the  unity  of  the  people 
and  of  the  solidarity  of  responsibility  could  not  but  excite 
intense  opposition  to  social  shortcomings  and  lead  the 
Puritan  to  purge  the  nation  from  pollution  and  vice. 

Thus,  when  the  old  conditions  were  broken  down  and 
the  historical  clan  life  ceased,  the  Puritan  utilized  the  clan 
concept  and  feelings  to  form  the  enlarged  concept  of  the 
people  standing  in  definite  relations  to  God.  The  Puritan 
still  had  the  clan  concept,  but  by  thinking  of  the  relations 
between  men  and  God  as  those  of  a  clan  to  its  leader,  they 


THE  CALVINISTS  125 

freed  the  thought  of  all  historical  dross,  and  made  it  stand 
for  the  purest  relations  then  conceivable.  The  common 
life  of  men  became  their  purest  life,  and  hence  religious. 
Everything  outside  of  their  common  life  was  regarded  as 
idolatrous,  and  sure  to  bring  calamities. 

But  when  the  social  reorganization  came,  the  more  indul- 
gent neighbour  gave  up  to  the  nation  the  best  elements  of 
clannish  life,  and  retained  in  the  concept  only  the  dross, 
the  coarser  pleasures  associated  with  earlier  days.  To 
him  common  life  meant  carousals,  free  fights,  drunken- 
ness, adultery,  and  other  indulgences  to  which  primitive 
men  were  inclined.  Both  parties,  therefore,  tried  to  revive 
and  reanimate  the  old  clannish  feeling,  but  their  mental 
development  was  so  different  that  they  were  brought  into 
a  contest  to  be  decided  only  by  a  bitter  struggle. 

The  Puritan  believed  that  every  expression  and  action 
was  an  index  of  character.  The  inner  man,  they  felt,  was 
always  objectified  in  acts.  There  was  no  need  of  looking 
into  men's  hearts  when  its  condition  was  reflected  in  all 
they  did.  It  is  not  that  which  goeth  into  a  man  that 
defileth  him,  but  that  which  cometh  out.  In  this  mood 
men  guarded  every  word,  look,  and  act,  and  lived  con- 
stantly in  the  thought  that  any  deviation  from  the  objec- 
tive standards  of  law  and  morality  revealed  the  depravity 
of  men's  hearts,  and  thus  exposed  them  to  the  penalties 
that  every  violation  of  the  covenant  evoked.  When  the 
mental  life  of  the  people  is  visualized,  the  acts  of  each 
man  become  the  acts  of  all  men,  and  his  defects  become 
their  defects.  According  to  this  reasoning,  there  could 
be  no  purity  except  national  purity. 

The  non-Puritan  fully  recognized  the  connection  be- 
tween the  outer  act  and  the  inner  man,  but  he  wished  to 
appear  bad  so  that  he  might  seem  forceful.  Men  of  energy 
resort  to  many  devices  to  appear  passionate  and  resentful. 
The  man  who  shows  passion  upon  slight  provocation  and 
violates  the  conventional  rules  of  behaviour  gains  a  posi- 

< 


126  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

tion  among  simple  people  that  quieter  methods  cannot 
secure.  The  vigorous  sensualist,  therefore,  had  a  purpose 
in  violating  the  rules  of  conduct  that  the  Puritans  held 
dear.  He  used  the  accepted  connection  between  the  inner 
thought  and  the  outward  expression  to  impress  his  impor- 
tance on  his  inferiors,  and  make  them  more  submissive  to 
his  will.  The  readiest  means  of  vigorous  expression  are 
oaths,  and  resort  to  them  is  always  had  by  those  who  seek 
to  terrify  others  into  doing  what  they  have  no  right  to 
command.  Those  who  made  free  use  of  God's  name  were 
as  far  from  being  idolatrous  as  were  the  Puritans.  They 
simply  desired  to  impress  their  importance  and  enforce 
ready  obedience.  Both  these  ends  could  be  gained  by  a 
string  of  oaths,  which  cost  nothing  but  the  opposition  of 
the  Puritans.  The  use  of  oaths  thus  became  the  distinc- 
tive mark  of  a  certain  type  of  men. 

The  Puritans  opposed  all  who  bore  this  mark,  and  hence 
they  gave  this  test  an  importance  that  cannot  now  be 
understood  without  some  explanation.  Adultery  and 
swearing  were  regarded  as  the  two  great  evils,  because  they 
were  the  ready  tests  by  which  the  sensual  and  depraved 
could  be  distinguished.  Hobbes  is  not  far  from  right  in 
saying  that  the  Puritans  only  knew  two  commandments, 
—  the  third  and  the  seventh.  But  why  seek  many  tests 
when  one  or  two  simple  ones  will  answer  ?  If  the  simple 
tests  of  the  Puritans  sufficed  for  their  age,  they  did 
well  to  neglect  evils  that  are  the  outcome  of  other  ages. 
When  adultery  and  swearing  had  been  curbed  other  evils 
could  be  attacked.  For  the  time  at  least,  the  lesser  vices 
were  bound  up  in  the  greater,  and  could  be  fought  through 
them.  Adultery  violated  the  home  ;  swearing  broke  the 
sacred  covenant.  Could  honest  men  be  silent  when  their 
most  cherished  ideals  were  at  stake  ? 

The  marked  peculiarity  of  English  civilization  is  the 
suddenness  of  its  advent.     When  other  nations  were  ris- 


THE  CALVINISTS  127 

ing  in  civilization  by  a  much  slower  process,  England  had 
lain  dormant,  a  land  of  savagery  and  brutality,  feeling 
outside  influences  only  occasionally  and  spasmodically. 
The  early  history  of  England  is  a  series  of  partially  made 
conquests,  not  thorough  enough  to  establish  a  foreign  civ- 
ilization, and  too  violent  and  too  frequent  to  permit 
development  from  internal  sources.  Not  until  the  Nor- 
man Conquest  were  the  conditions  of  progress  acquired, 
and  even  then  there  were  many  obstacles  against  which 
more  favoured  nations  had  not  to  contend.  It  may 
seem  a  long  time  from  the  Norman  Conquest  to  the 
Puritan  Revolution,  but  a  century  is  to  a  civilization  as 
a  day  to  a  man's  life. 

This  earlier  England  can  best  be  understood  by  com- 
paring it  with  the  Ireland  of  more  recent  times.  For 
centuries  the  English  have  been  at  least  the  nominal 
rulers  of  that  land.  Had  they  been  more  brutal,  and  rid 
the  island  of  its  earlier  inhabitants,  new  settlers  might 
have  secured  for  it  an  honoured  place  in  history.  Had 
the  rulers  been  more  mild,  this  might  have  been  accom- 
plished by  the  inhabitants  themselves.  But  as  a  fact 
neither  of  these  policies  was  pursued,  or,  rather,  both  of 
them  were  followed,  but  so  irregularly  and  with  such 
sudden  changes  from  one  extreme  to  the  other  that  each 
counteracted  the  good  the  other  might  have  done,  and 
together  they  destroyed  even  the  few  virtues  that  earlier 
times  had  instilled.  It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  wondered 
at  that  the  Irish  have  become  an  example  of  unthrift,  and 
that  primitive  passions  which  have  disappeared  from  other 
lands  still  hold  sway  over  them.  . 

In  just  this  way  early  England  was  the  football  of  cir- 
cumstances. The  conflict  between  external  and  internal 
forces  was  so  evenly  balanced  that  neither  could  accom- 
plish their  legitimate  effects.  The  good  was  destroyed 
before  it  could  become  thoroughly  rooted.  The  bad  was 
never  more  than  checked,  and  was  often  so  assisted  by 


128  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

circumstances  that  it  had  the  luxuriance  of  weeds.  In 
such  conditions  the  primitive  evil  endures,  and  assumes 
forms  more  noxious  than  simpler  conditions  would  permit. 
There  is  no  evil  so  great  as  an  irregular,  insecure  social 
environment.  It  promotes  the  gambling  spirit  with  which 
primitive  men  are  tainted,  and  brings  to  the  front  those 
strong  passions  that  demand  immediate  indulgence. 

Suppose  the  channels  of  trade  and  commerce  to  be 
suddenly  so  changed  that  Madagascar  became  the  most 
favourably  situated  island  in  the  world,  and  that  inex- 
haustible internal  resources  were  opened  up  there  which 
gave  to  industry  an  advantage  not  possible  in  other  lands. 
It  is  quite  easy  to  predict  what  changes  we  might  expect 
in  its  inhabitants.  The  mass  of  the  people  would  use 
their  advantage  to  satisfy  carnal  appetites  ;  the  chiefs  of 
local  tribes  would  be  changed  into  a  flashy  nobility  eager 
for  every  foreign  gewgaw,  and  the  king  would  sit  on 
his  throne  feasting,  laughing  at  straws,  and  thinking  of 
nothing  higher  than  of  the  supply  of  women  that  he  and 
his  court  were  to  debauch.  This  is  human  nature  as  it 
shows  itself  whenever  unexpected  economic  conditions 
suddenly  pile  wealth  into  anybody's  lap.  We  should  not 
find  fault  with  the  Madagascar  savages  under  these  con- 
ditions, nor  should  we  condemn  the  English  when  they 
suddenly  found  themselves  in  a  similar  position. 

Perhaps  the  best  of  all  places  for  examining  the  native 
tendencies  of  human  nature  is  in  a  mining  camp,  or  in  any 
region  where  new  resources  capable  of  immediate  exploita- 
tion are  opened  up.  America  has  had  a  series  of  these 
exhibitions  of  character,  and  from  them  can  be  obtained 
the  best  pictures  of  how  men  act  when  fortune  suddenly 
smiles  on  them.  Men  of  this  sort  are  the  constant 
laughing-stock  of  people  with  more  refined  tastes. 
They  throw  their  money  about  in  a  careless  way,  are 
pleased  with  simple  things,  and  run  into  extravagances 
and  debaucheries.     Their  pleasures  are  not  less  striking 


THE   CALVINISTS  129 

than  the  glass  beads  and  other  gewgaws  of  the  savage, 
and  their  vices  are  as  low  as  those  of  their  more  primitive 
brothers.  They  love  strange  sights  and  striking  spectacles, 
and  satisfy  to  the  full  any  simple  longing  of  their  earlier 
days  of  innocence  and  restricted  income.  "  Coal-oil 
Johnny  "  was  a  striking  example  of  this  class.  Suddenly 
made  rich  by  the  discovery  of  oil  on  his  lands,  he  ex- 
pended his  money  in  running  a  circus.  Nowhere  else 
could  he  find  the  few  things  he  enjoyed  so  vividly  pre- 
sented and  so  harmoniously  united.  Here  he  cast  his  lot 
as  long  as  his  wealth  held  out,  and  then  sank  back  to 
the  level  from  which  he  sprang.  If  we  had  a  thousand 
such  men  governing  an  island,  we  might  call  them  a 
nobility,  but  their  actions  would  belie  the  title,  for  their 
pleasures  and  vices  would  be  simple  and  vulgar.  The 
island  might  be  called  merry  while  they  ran  circuses,  pro- 
moted street  fights,  held  carnivals  and  fairs,  and  danced 
around  May-poles,  but  it  would  be  a  merriment  ending 
in  debasement  and  degradation.  Only  after  this  mad 
carnival  ended  could  any  refinement  or  civilization  appear. 
A  comparison  of  German  and  English  civilization  will 
further  illustrate  this  thought.  Germany  has  had  a  steady 
development  running  through  many  ages.  It  has  had  no 
sudden  spasms  of  progress  followed  by  relapses  into  sensu- 
ality. Until  after  the  Reformation  the  country  was  never 
overrun  by  foreign  foes.  The  external  forces  were  too 
weak  to  subjugate  her,  or  even  seriously  to  impress  them- 
selves on  her.  The  upbuilding  forces  were,  therefore,  all 
internal,  and  they  worked  so  gradually  as  to  affect  all 
classes  alike.  As  a  result,  the  Germans  in  all  parts  of 
society  have  the  same  characteristics.  If  the  peasant  were 
transferred  to  the  palace,  he  might  be  uncouth  and  take 
some  time  to  acquire  polish,  but  he  would  never  sink  to  the 
brute's  level  and  run  circuses  or  promote  street  fights. 
Every  German  carries  upon  him  the  impress  of  his  civ- 
ilization.    He  has  the  same  quiet  ways,  loves  the  same 


130  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

innocent  amusements,  has  the  same  affability  to  strangers, 
and  dreads  the  violence  and  stir  that  rude  men  enjoy.  You 
may  not  admire  the  type,  but  at  least  it  has  been  made  uni- 
versal by  the  pressure  of  slowly  working  social  forces,  and 
can  be  relied  on  to  show  its  traits  in  all  classes. 
.,  The  striking  thing  in  England  is  the  gulf  between  the 
upper  and  the  lower  classes.  No  one  can  deny  that  the 
better  class  of  Englishmen  is  civilized ;  many  think  that 
it  furnishes  the  highest  specimens  of  nobility  and  enter- 
prise that  modern  civilization  affords.  But  in  passing  be- 
low these  men  whose  character  is  thoroughly  fixed  there 
is  a  sudden  drop  to  the  plain  of  mere  brutality.  The 
stages  between  character  and  sensuality  do  not  exist.  The 
man  who  is  not  refined  likes  street  fights,  gambling,  gin, 
horse-racing,  and  is  as  eager  to  promote  vice  as  were  his 
primitive  ancestors.  There  are  whole  classes  whose  lives 
would  disgrace  the  South  Sea  Islanders,  and  whose  vices 
could  not  be  paralleled  except  among  the  rudest  savages. 
This  state  of  affairs  is  merely  an  index  of  the  newness  of 
English  civilization.  England  has  never  enjoyed  those 
steady  upbuilding  forces  that  eliminate  the  vicious  and 
give  to  all  survivors  the  same  definite  marks.  The  Puritan 
struggle  is  the  only  one  in  which  the  evils  in  question  were 
consciously  grappled  with,  but  its  duration  was  too  short 
and  its  resources  too  few  to  destroy  them.  At  other  times 
the  brutal  have  had  their  way,  and  the  vicious  have  run 
their  natural  course  towards  degradation.  Even  by  such 
processes  the  destruction  of  the  bad  takes  place,  but  it  will 
require  time  to  weed  out  the  brutal  and  the  vicious  from 
England. 

To  understand  the  primitive  conditions  that  still  sur- 
vived in  the  time  of  the  Puritans,  we  must  study  the  traits 
of  primitive  men,  and  also  the  peculiar  effects  of  English 
climate.  The  latter  determined  the  constitution  of  those 
who  survived.     England  is  wet  and  breezy.     Damp  air, 


THE  CALVINISTS  131 

which  is  one  of  the  best  radiators  of  heat,  is  the  cause  of 
perpetual  chilliness.  Such  a  condition  is  a  great  drain  on 
the  system,  and  can  be  guarded  against  only  by  warm 
clothing  or  by  rich  food.  As  primitive  men  lacked  warm 
clothing,  it  was  necessary  to  keep  the  internal  furnace 
hotly  burning,  and  those  whose  constitutions  were  so  weak 
that  they  could  not  maintain  their  vitality  were  weeded 
out  by  exposure  and  disease.  This  climatic  strain  was 
further  increased  by  the  habits  of  the  people.  It  is  said 
that  they  plunged  their  new-born  children  into  lakes  or 
rivers  to  test  their  constitution.  They  went  bare-limbed 
without  inconvenience,  and  sought  opportunities  to  dis- 
play their  vigour  and  hardihood.  Even  a  century  ago 
men  enjoyed  washing  out  of  doors  in  winter,  and  loved  to 
throw  ice-water  over  their  bare  shoulders.  The  internal 
furnaces  raged  so  fiercely  that  only  by  such  means  could 
they  be  rendered  bearable.  Picture  the  early  English 
clothed  in  linen  instead  of  wool,  and  then  you  will  begin 
to  realize  what  constitutions  they  had.  Among  a  race  of 
men  so  inadequately  clothed,  those  who  suffered  from 
weakness  and  poverty  simply  disappeared. 

There  is  no  better  way  of  showing  the  results  of 
economic  changes  than  to  take  this  man  of  nature  and  put 
him  into  heavy,  woollen  clothes,  build  him  a  comfortable 
house,  and  set  him  by  a  blazing  fire.  The  fierce  internal 
combustion  and  the  vigorous  appetite  will  not  only  be 
useless,  but  positively  injurious.  The  fires  must  be  banked 
and  the  appetites  reduced.  Changes  like  these  cannot 
take  place  in  a  day  without  evil  results.  The  dissipation 
that  Englishmen  plunged  into  was  largely  due  to  the  sud- 
denness of  the  economic  change.  What  could  not  come  to 
the  surface  went  to  the  heart  and  corrupted  it.  In  contrast 
to  this  natural  Englishman,  we  must  think  of  the  Puritan 
as  a  man  needing  warm  clothing  and  a  comfortable,  heated 
house.  He  wore  mufflers  and  fur  gloves  when  out  of 
doors,  and  used  pills  instead  of  exercise  to  promote  his 


132  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

digestion.  To  have  slept  on  the  grass  or  to  have  danced 
barefoot  around  a  May-pole  would  have  killed  him. 

If  such  was  the  constitution  of  the  early  Englishman, 
what  were  his  traits  and  vices  ?  Here,  as  I  have  said,  it 
is  better  to  picture  the  typical  savage  ;  for  an  Englishman 
was  only  a  savage  held  over.  The  primitive  man  likes 
feasts,  sports,  and  gambling,  and  enjoys  childish  spec- 
tacles and  strange  sights.  The  Puritans  did  not  under- 
stand anthropology,  and  hence  they  thought  their  enemies 
were  possessed  of  devils.  It  was,  however,  only  such 
deviltry  as  comes  of  forcing  natural  spirits  into  wrong 
channels.  All  these  exhibitions  of  primitive  nature  the 
Puritans  called  idolatry,  and  the  effects  of  passion  were 
summed  up  as  adultery.  The  facts  were  indeed  bad 
enough,  but  these  terms  misrepresent  them.  The  trouble 
lay  in  the  crudeness  of  the  national  sports,  and  in  the  lack 
of  those  concepts  upon  which  the  ties  of  modern  marriage 
rest.  The  Puritans  are  not  to  be  blamed  for  their  igno- 
rance of  early  marriage  relations,  but  we  know  enough 
now  to  understand  what  the  trouble  was.  In  primitive 
times  sexual  matters  concerned  the  tribe,  not  the  person. 
The  end  sought  was  the  preservation  of  the  group,  and 
against  it  no  individual  had  rights,  nor  were  his  inclina- 
tions and  feelings  ever  made  the  basis  of  duties  or  virtues. 
Where  parentage  is  unimportant  promiscuity  is  the  rule. 
Especially  in  fighting  clans  it  was  necessary  to  offer  every 
inducement  for  child-bearing.  Festivals,  feasts,  and  social 
gatherings  were  designed  to  provoke  the  passions. 

Under  such  conditions  the  first  thought  of  a  woman  was 
not  to  guard  her  chastity  but  to  escape  barrenness.  She 
knew  that  her  position  and  probably  her  life  depended 
upon  her  fertility.  Chastity  became  a  dominant  motive 
only  after  economic  welfare  had  progressed  so  far  that 
clans  began  to  disintegrate.  Before  that  time  barrenness 
was  the  dread  of  every  woman,  and  she  would  resort  to  any 
means  to  avoid  it.     There  is  probably  some  truth  in  the 


THE   CALVINISTS  133 

assertion  that  a  woman  is  more  fruitful  if  she  enters  into 
sexual  relations  when  very  young  and  indulges  in  amuse- 
ments that  create  sexual  excitement.  At  least  savage 
races  act  on  these  assumptions  and  incorporate  them  in 
their  religion.  The  gods  that  primitive  women  worshipped 
most  eagerly  were  those  that  prevented  barrenness,  and 
these  gods  were  sure  to  demand  of  women  licentious  acts 
as  a  means  of  securing  their  favour.  The  sacrifice  of  chas- 
tity was  an  early  form  of  worship,  and  sacred  prostitution 
is  an  element  in  primitive  religions.  The  story  of  Hebrew 
progress  told  in  the  Bible  shows  how  hard  it  was  to  weed 
out  these  practices,  and  the  Puritans  were  not  wrong  in 
seeing  a  similarity  between  vice  in  England  and  in  Pales- 
tine, but  they  mistook  the  causes.  The  English  had  not 
fallen  from  a  higher  and  purer  state,  they  simply  had 
never  risen  out  of  the  natural  condition  of  all  primitive 
races.  When  Christianity  was  introduced,  the  old  festi- 
vals with  which  so  much  licentiousness  was  associated 
were  not  abolished,  but  were  continued  under  other 
names.  This  was  the  conscious  policy  of  the  Church, 
and  was  commanded  by  Pope  Gregory. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  Church  was  in  reality 
a  civil  organization  whose  main  end  was  peace  and  security. 
Its  clergy  did  not,  therefore,  express  that  condemnation  of 
sensual  indulgences  which  modern  opinion  demands,  but 
were  content  if  no  breaches  of  the  peace  occurred,  in  the 
belief  that  the  nation  was  safest  when  the  attention  of 
individuals  was  diverted  from  public  affairs  by  opportuni- 
ties to  indulge  their  passions.  Little  was  done  to  improve 
the  character  of  local  festivals  and  other  social  gatherings. 
Doubtless  some  of  them  were  gradually  bettered,  but  there 
was  still  a  taint  about  all  communal  pleasures,  and  some 
were  really  vile.  The  social  standards  fell  very  low,  if 
they  were  not  completely  broken  down.  Girls  then  ac- 
cepted as  matters  of  course  what  under  other  conditions 
would  have  made  them  recoil.     Thoughtful  parents  recog- 


134  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

nized  the  dangers  and  withdrew  their  daughters  from 
temptation,  until  in  the  end  only  the  worst  social  elements 
indulged  in  the  communal  pleasures.  Therefore  it  should 
not  be  a  matter  of  wonder,  if,  as  the  Puritans  charged,  the 
greater  number  of  the  maidens  who  danced  about  the  May- 
poles lost  their  virtue.  Just  this  loss  of  virtue  was  the 
original  purpose  of  such  gatherings,  and  they  were  con- 
tinued to  give  an  outlet  to  the  carnal  appetites  of  men 
and  to  promote  the  growth  of  population.  It  was  hardly 
possible  that  these  ends  should  have  been  suddenly  lost 
sight  of,  and  that  events  having  so  many  vile  associations 
should  have  become  innocent,  aesthetic  pleasures. 

One  might  fill  a  book  with  descriptions  of  the  crude, 
silly,  and  brutal  amusements  of  Cavalier  England.  The 
May  games  were  a  single  feature,  and  perhaps  the  best  of 
their  kind.  There  were  also  a  great  variety  of  festivals, 
fairs,  and  carnivals,  in  which  the  brutality  and  licentious- 
ness of  earlier  days  had  full  swing.  Each  saint's  day,  of 
which  there  were  forty  or  more,  gave  a  new  occasion  to 
lay  aside  respectability.  There  were  also  pageants,  proces- 
sions, and  church  fairs  to  attract  the  innocent  and  unwary. 
Even  now  church  fairs  in  the  frontier  towns  of  America 
are  bad  enough,  but  there  is  no  attempt  to  compete  with 
inn-keepers  in  promoting  drunkenness,  as  the  English 
churches  did  at  their  Whitsun-ales.  In  addition  to  all  these 
sports  there  were  public  dances,  —  morris  dancing,  masked 
balls,  and  the  like,  —  where  too  often  the  mirth  was  at  the 
expense  of  common  decency.  Then  came  the  less  public 
events,  —  bridals,  christenings,  wakes,  funerals,  and  birth- 
days,—  in  which  the  lower  self  was  again  free  from  re- 
straint. For  shows  the  taste  of  the  day  demanded  puppet 
plays,  hobby-horses,  jugglers,  and  jesters,  with  a  sprinkling 
of  local  plays  and  interludes  in  which  sacred  things  were 
lowered  and  evil  exalted.  When  these  attractions  failed, 
resort  was  had  to  cock-fighting,  bull   and  bear   baiting, 


THE  CALVINISTS  135 

throwing  at  cocks,  or  other  forms  of  torture,  and  by  way 
of  variety  some  sporting  nobles  would  offer  a  hat  to  the 
man  who  knocked  down  the  most  people  in  an  open  street 
fight. 

Looked  at  from  a  distance,  these  events  may  appear 
natural  and  merry,  but  they  did  not  seem  so  to  sober 
people  who  had  to  live  among  them.  The  money  for 
their  support  was  obtained  by  methods  little  short  of  ter- 
rorism, and  if  all  else  failed,  thieving  helped  out.  Picture 
a  community  that  was  outside  the  law  about  half  the  time, 
and  where  public  sentiment  was  about  as  elevated  as  it 
was  in  those  portions  of  Missouri  which  Jesse  James 
terrorized,  and  one  can  realize  the  power  that  promoters 
of  these  events  had,  and  the  distaste  felt  by  the  more 
respectable.  At  Christmas,  and  often  at  other  festivals,  a 
master  reveller  was  appointed,  to  whom  for  the  time  all 
the  honours  of  a  king  were  paid.  When  this  Lord  of 
Misrule  —  a  title  that  certainly  fitted  his  deeds  —  had 
appointed  his  subordinates  and  formed  a  procession,  they 
went  about  the  town  disguised  and  acting  like  madmen, 
forcing  people  to  give  them  food  and  drink  to  get  rid  of 
them.  Finally,  when  tired  of  other  mischief,  they  went 
to  the  church,  broke  up  the  service,  made  themselves 
merry  among  the  pews,  and  profaned  the  churchyard  by 
turning  it  into  a  dance-hall,  where  they  disgraced  the 
night.  At  other  times  Friar  Tuck,  Maid  Marian,  Robin 
Hood  and  his  outlaws,  were  brought  in  to  lead  the  festivi- 
ties. 

Vice  is  the  same,  however  dressed,  and  its  devotees  care 
little  for  the  outer  garb  so  long  as  the  reality  is  secured 
and  enjoyed.  Very  thin  disguises  will  serve  as  occasion 
for  assembling  the  clans  of  vice.  Perhaps  the  most  amus- 
ing, certainly  the  most  absurd,  of  all  these  devices  were 
the  pageants  and  processions  of  which  both  people  and 
nobility  were  fond.  It  seems  hard  to  realize  that  our 
ancestors  of  only  three  centuries  ago  liked  to  ride  hobby- 


136  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

horses,  and  to  look  upon  a  motley  procession  of  nymphs, 
fairies,  satyrs,  dragons,  and  devils,  accompanied  by  a  host 
of  giants,  knights,  buffoons,  dwarfs,  and  naked  boys.  With 
these  were  intermingled  crude  representations  of  ships, 
castles,  gardens,  and  forests.  Yet  vast  sums  of  money 
were  spent  on  these  childish  spectacles,  and  royalty  itself 
participated  in  them.  These  displays  of  pomp  and  absurd- 
ity revealed  how  much  of  the  savage  still  remained  in 
the  English  nature.  Little  that  was  pleasing  or  aesthetic 
could  be  found  in  a  five-shilling  hobby-horse  or  in  the 
monstrosities  and  strange  figures  that  filed  along  the 
streets.  They  simply  indicated  a  deficiency  of  taste  and 
a  primitive  longing  for  activity  and  excitement.  They 
also  gave  the  relief  that  savage  natures  crave  from  the 
monotony  of  a  dull  economic  life. 

When  all  these  events  are  summed  up,  we  see  that 
sports,  holidays,  and  festivals  occupied  full  half  the  time. 
To  begin  with  there  were  fifty-two  Sundays,  some  forty 
saints'  days,  and  numerous  national  holidays  ;  then  came 
all  the  local  events,  —  Christmas  fairs,  festivals,  anniversa- 
ries and  the  like,  —  to  which  must  be  added  the  more  pri- 
vate celebrations,  as  christenings,  bridals,  wakes,  and 
funerals.  In  fact,  one  might  have  a  perpetual  holiday 
if  he  distributed  his  time  by  passing  from  town  to  town. 
Thus  the  sensualists  were  using  the  advantages  that  an 
economic  revolution  put  in  their  way.  Surely  there  was 
need  of  some  movement  to  stem  the  swelling  tide  of  vice 
and  to  raise  the  people  out  of  the  primitive  conditions 
that  still  continued. 

The  evidence  of  these  facts  does  not  come  from  Puritan 
sources  alone.  The  economic  tracts  of  the  time  tell  the 
same  story  in  even  plainer  language.  They  show  how 
impossible  it  was  to  keep  men  at  work  while  the  old 
customs  were  observed,  and  so  many  opportunities  for 
indulgence  offered  temptations  to  idleness  and  vice. 
Unfortunately,  neither  the  nobility  nor  the  rulers  offered 


THE  CALVINISTS  137 

any  hope  of  better  things.  In  earlier  days  there  had  been 
nobles  worthy  of  their  rank,  but  they  had  found  their  way 
to  the  halter  or  the  block.  The  monks,  too,  who  by  their 
example  had  led  others  to  industry  and  right  living,  were 
gone  and  their  lands  given  to  the  new  nobility.  Instead 
of  restraint  coming  from  above,  the  influence  of  the  newly 
exalted  helped  to  revive  primitive  conditions  and  to  call 
out  the  brutal  and  licentious  elements  in  human  nature. 
Nor  were  the  rulers  in  a  mood  to  appreciate  the  situation. 
The  Tudors  were  primitive  both  in  action  and  taste. 
"  Good  Queen  Bess "  could  laugh  at  a  straw  as  heartily 
as  any  savage.  Admire  her  public  policy  as  we  must,  her 
virtues  ended  there,  and  were  replaced  by  traits  such  as 
we  associate  with  wandering  gypsies.  She  wanted  not  a 
wise,  sober  people,  but  one  that  would  minister  to  her 
caprice  and  tickle  her  vanity.  This  put  her  in  the  wrong 
attitude  towards  social  issues.  The  side  she  saw  of  the 
old  sports  and  amusements  appealed  to  her  too  strongly 
to  be  dispensed  with  because  of  sentiments  she  did  not 
feel.  And  the  Stuarts  added  fuel  to  the  flame  by  their 
Book  of  Sports,  which  permitted  the  revival  of  old  abuses, 
and  made  Sunday  merely  a  day  of  amusement. 

The  key  to  the  situation  lies  in  the  once  universal  no- 
tion that  the  popular  sports  and  amusements,  by  exciting 
the  sexual  passions,  promoted  the  growth  of  population. 
The  loss  of  virtue  that  the  Puritans  denounced  in  the 
May  games  was  to  the  ruling  class  an  argument  in  their 
favour.  The  noble  who  debauched  the  wives  and  daugh- 
ters of  his  tenantry  did  not  think  that  he  did  wrong  ;  on 
the  contrary,  he  told  himself  that  he  was  doing  the  nation 
a  service.  It  quite  accords  with  primitive  thought  to 
lament  the  loss  of  a  sister's  or  a  daughter's  virtue,  and 
yet  to  advocate  seduction  as  a  principle.  It  should  also 
be  remembered  that  Malthus,  two  centuries  later,  was  the 
first  to  oppose  an  unrestrained  increase  of  population,  and 
that  he  had  to  convince  not  only  the  ruling  class  but  the 


138  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

clergy  ;  for  every  one  believed  that  the  illegitimate  children, 
even  of  a  pauper,  were  a  national  blessing,  helping  to  make 
the  nation  greater  and  more  prosperous.  It  is  no  wonder 
that  such  deeply  rooted  notions  created  a  wrong  social 
policy  and  brought  on  a  desperate  struggle. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  there  were  some  reasons  why 
statesmen  should  desire  an  increasing  population.  The 
great  plagues  were  coincident  with  the  rise  of  Puritanism. 
Labour  had  grown  scarce  and  wages  high.  The  burden  of 
this  change  fell  on  the  upper  classes,  who  were  naturally 
irritated  by  the  innovations  in  manners  that  went  with 
the  better  economic  position  of  their  dependents.  The 
great  plagues  also  had  a  bad  effect  on  the  lower  classes. 
There  is  no  worse  enemy  to  regular  living  and  industry 
than  the  feeling  that  life  is  a  lottery.  The  primitive  man 
lives  in  the  realm  of  chance,  and  to  this  fact  are  due  his 
reckless  disposition,  his  willingness  to  take  hazards,  and 
his  love  of  gambling.  These  tendencies  are  subdued  or 
eradicated  only  when  a  regular  economic  life  becomes  pos- 
sible. The  promise  of  a  long  life  and  three  good  meals  a 
day  are  the  best  means  for  creating  regular  habits  and 
continuous  industry.  Yet  it  was  England's  misfortune 
that  when  improved  economic  conditions  made  a  regular 
life  possible,  the  plague  destroyed  for  her  people  the 
security  that  economic  prosperity  promotes.  The  lower 
classes,  being  thus  prevented  from  feeling  the  steadying 
effects  of  the  new  conditions,  retained  the  reckless  dispo- 
sition that  earlier  conditions  had  developed  in  them. 

The  Puritans,  however,  were  aided  by  the  plagues,  just 
as  they  had  been  by  the  new  economic  conditions.  They 
were  well  housed  and  lived  in  a  cleanly  manner.  The 
plagues  gave  them  additional  incentives  to  improve  their 
homes,  their  cleanliness,  and  the  regularity  of  their  lives. 
A  great  calamity  makes  a  steady  man  more  regular  and 
an  unsteady  man  more  reckless.  Each  takes  the  way  out 
of  the  difficulty  that  is  suited  to  his  nature.     The  plague 


THE   CALVINISTS  139 

appeared  to  the  Puritans  to  be  a  God-sent  calamity  ;  it 
harmonized  with  their  notion  of  how  the  principle  of  the 
solidarity  of  responsibility  should  act.  Every  calamity, 
since  it  fell  mainly  on  the  careless  and  sensual,  fired  them 
with  a  new  zeal,  and  widened  the  gulf  between  them  and 
their  sensual  neighbours. 

In  the  preceding  sections  I  have  pictured  the  economic 
changes  and  the  social  conditions  that  brought  on  the 
struggle  between  the  Puritans  and  the  sensualists.  From 
the  start  the  conflict  was  irrepressible,  and  the  conditions 
made  it  impossible  that  either  party  should  gain  a  deci- 
sive victory.  The  result  was  not  Puritanism  nor  sensual- 
ism, but  something  better,  —  the  formation  of  the  English 
character.  It  matters  not,  therefore,  how  many  lives  were 
lost,  how  many  kings  beheaded,  or  who  gained  this  or  that 
battle.  All  these  facts  have  an  interest  in  themselves,  but 
they  do  not  help  us  to  learn  how  the  conflict  provoked  a 
rapid  development  of  English  thought.  For  this  we  must 
look  in  other  quarters.  First,  however,  we  should  review 
the  classes  existing  at  the  time  of  the  conflict,  and  see 
why  the  seeds  of  further  progress  lay  in  none  of  them. 

I  have  called  attention  to  three  types  of  English  charac- 
ter, which,  if  we  name  them  from  their  psychic  manifesta- 
tions, are  the  sensualist,  the  dinger,  and  the  stalwart.  The 
sensualist  is  the  original  unmodified  Englishman  who  re- 
tained the  dross  of  primitive  times.  The  dinger  is  the 
result  of  the  qualities  engrafted  on  English  nature  by  the 
supremacy  of  the  Church.  The  stalwart  is  in  the  con- 
crete the  Puritan.  The  conflict  was  a  three-cornered 
fight,  in  which  either  the  sensualist  or  the  Puritan  was 
the  aggressor,  while  the  dinger  joined  in  with  the  defen- 
sive party. 

This  defensive  policy  of  the  dinger  made  it  impossible 
for  either  the  sensualist  or  the  stalwart  to  retain  the 
supremacy.     They  had  the  greater  energy,  but  they  were 


140  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

at  length  worn  out  by  the  steady  persistence  of  the  dinger, 
who  wanted  to  have  things  let  alone.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  was  impossible  for  the  dinger  to  keep  matters  as  they 
were.  Neither  the  Puritan  nor  the  sensualist  agreed  with 
his  desire  to  have  things  let  alone,  and  between  them  they 
were  sure  to  disturb  any  compromise.  Although  the 
dingers  as  a  class  owed  their  existence  to  the  supremacy 
of  the  Church,  they  should  not  be  identified  with  the 
Catholic  party.  Every  one  who  wanted  peace  and  security, 
who  believed  in  the  divine  right  of  kings,  or  who  was  in 
heart  an  eighteenth-century  Tory  had  had  these  feelings 
drilled  into  him  by  the  Church.  Although  widespread 
and  deep-rooted,  these  feelings  were  not  universal,  and 
even  if  they  had  been  they  could  not  have  resisted  the  dis- 
solving force  of  economic  changes.  They  were  therefore 
merely  a  steadying  power,  which  must  in  the  end  have 
weakened  and  disappeared. 

Desirable  as  it  was  that  the  Puritan  should  succeed,  his 
success  was  as  impossible  as  that  of  the  Catholic  party. 
If  it  be  asked  what  became  of  the  Puritan,  the  proper 
answer  is,  that  he  died  of  consumption.  In  this  crude  way 
I  mean  to  indicate  the  defect  in  his  economic  programme 
that  caused  his  overthrow.  A  child  of  nature  can  sleep 
in  the  gutter  or  wade  barefoot  in  the  snow  without  injury ; 
but  a  well-housed  man  must  avoid  extremes,  and  be  sure 
that  he  is  always  comfortable.  But  with  all  their  power 
to  create  visual  concepts,  the  Puritans  lacked  the  thought 
of  comfort.  They  pictured  themselves  as  living  in  tents 
on  the  plains  of  Palestine,  instead  of  being  housed  as  they 
were  in  the  vigorous  climate  of  England.  The  prophets 
of  Israel  always  coupled  luxury  with  idolatry,  because 
both  of  them  were  due  to  foreign  influence.  The  Puritan 
was  misled  by  this  theory,  and  having  that  inherent  love 
of  activity  which  all  Englishmen  inherited,  he  worked  and 
exposed  himself  as  though  he  were  a  primitive  English- 
man, and  did  not  secure  for  himself  those  material  com- 


THE   CALVTNISTS  141 

forts  which  his  new  economic  position  required.  Comfort, 
however,  is  essential  to  the  well-housed,  and  those  who 
are  not  instinctive  comfort-seekers  soon  suffer  poor  health. 
Consumption  is  the  disease  of  the  well-housed,  just  as  the 
plague  was  the  disease  of  the  alley  and  the  slums.  When 
the  plague  stopped,  consumption  began  its  work,  and  it 
hit  the  Puritan  as  hard  as  the  plagiie  had  his  uncleanly 
neighbour. 

It  will  be  interesting  at  this  point,  especially  as  the 
Puritans  made  so  much  of  it,  to  compare  the  history  and 
development  of  the  Hebrew  with  that  of  the  English.  Up 
to  the  period  of  the  Babylonian  exile  there  is  a  close 
parallel  between  the  history  of  the  Hebrew  nation  and 
that  of  the  English  up  to  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. But  after  that  the  parallel  ceases.  According  to 
the  Hebrew  analogy,  some  dire  calamity  should  have 
swept  off  the  wicked  and  left  the  pure  to  inherit  the 
English  land.  But  right  at  this  point  the  plague  ceased, 
and  the  wicked  not  only  went  unpunished,  but  even  waxed 
fat  on  the  cream  of  the  land.  The  poorly  housed  and  the 
riotous  liver  increased  in  number,  while  the  well-housed, 
abstemious  Puritans  died  off  with  great  rapidity.  For 
a  whole  century  consumption  cut  down  the  best  element 
in  society,  and  left  the  dregs.  Morality  was  at  a  dis- 
count !     Sensuality  was  above  par. 

Such  was  the  fate  of  the  Puritan.  No  matter  how 
much  he  dominated  others,  he  was  doomed  to  failure, 
because  the  word  "  comfort  "  was  not  in  his  vocabulary. 
Both  he  and  his  creed  suffered  from  the  same  disease,  and 
before  long  they  were  reduced  to  mere  skeletons,  unable 
to  take  an  aggressive  part  in  the  English  world.  It  was 
a  fearful  penalty,  but  economic  conditions  are  a  hard  task- 
master and  show  little  favour  to  those  who  violate  their 
rules.  Neither  the  Puritan  nor  the  Catholic  party  could 
succeed.  They  were  bound  to  disappear,  because  of 
their  economic  shortcomings.     The  three-cornered  fight 


142  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  which  I  have  spoken  had  to  go  on  until  some  solution 
could  be  found  other  than  those  these  parties  could  offer. 
A  new  type  of  men  was  demanded,  a  type  endowed  with 
mental  qualities  different  from  those  Englishmen  then 
possessed.  I  shall  now  turn  to  thinkers  of  this  new  class, 
to  see  what  solution  they  offer  for  national  difficulties. 

Before  examining  these  solutions,  however,  I  must  take 
up  certain  problems  of  interpretation  which  will  arise 
again  and  again.  There  is  a  marked  difference  between 
a  thinker's  method  of  finding  truth  and  his  method  of 
presenting  it.  The  new  truth  is  not  discovered  in  any 
predetermined  way.  It  generally  turns  up  in  some  unex- 
pected corner,  and  may  surprise  the  finder  more  than  it 
does  his  reader.  But  when  he  tries  to  present  it  to  the 
world,  he  is  governed  by  ideas  due  to  his  education.  Each 
age  has  certain  notions  about  rules  of  evidence ;  some 
science  or  particular  mode  of  thought  dominates  for  the 
time.  If  the  people  fancy  the  Hebrews  or  the  Greeks  or 
Romans,  they  demand  that  the  evidence  be  taken  from 
the  Bible  or  the  classics.  An  author,  therefore,  will  not 
present  the  facts  that  lead  him  up  to  the  truth,  or  use  the 
logic  that  convinced  him.  It  pleases  both  himself  and 
others  to  arrange  the  facts  and  logic  to  harmonize  with 
prevailing  notions.  Let  geometry,  physics,  chemistry, 
history,  or  biology  be  the  favourite  study,  and  new  truths 
will  be  brought  into  line,  and  have  the  appearance  at  least 
of  being  a  part  of  it.  Discovery  follows  a  natural  track, 
but  expression  has  all  the  errors  of  current  education. 
The  result  is  that  a  writer  reverses  the  order  in  which  he 
discovered  his  ideas.  If  he  saw  A  first,  then  B,  and  then 
C,  in  presenting  them  he  will  start  from  C  and  deduce  B 
from  it,  and  A  from  B.  Moreover,  the  accepted  science 
is  usually  the  most  advanced  science  of  the  time,  or 
probably  more  advanced  than  the  one  in  which  the  new 
truth   is   discovered.      This   fact   lures   the  author  into 


THE   CALVINISTS  143 

expressing  his  ideas  in  a  more  deductive  form  than  that 
which  he  used  in  his  own  studies.  Men  on  the  road  to 
scientific  discovery  see  the  new  at  first  in  some  concrete 
form ;  then  gradually  get  a  clearer  sight  of  it,  until  finally 
they  realize  its  full  import.  But  once  grasped,  it  seems 
so  simple  and  clear  that  the  earlier  and  more  concrete 
views  of  it  appear  as  mere  corollaries.  There  is,  however, 
no  deductive  road  to  discovery ;  concrete  studies  always 
precede  it,  and  if  an  author  does  not  begin  with  them,  he 
is  deceiving  the  reader  and  perhaps  himself  as  well. 

A  reader  who  would  be  critical  must  be  on  his  guard 
against  these  devices  of  writers  to  pass  off  their  products 
for  more  than  their  face  value.  He  must  seek  to  get 
behind  the  author's  own  statements  by  examining  certain 
minor  details  which  the  author  has  overlooked  in  restating 
his  ideas  according  to  preconceived  notions.  All  great 
writers  are  lazy.  This  is  natural  when  the  sustained  effort 
necessary  for  writing  a  long  book  is  considered.  The 
result  is  that  the  tired  author,  although  he  feels  that  a 
given  chapter  ought  to  be  rewritten  and  turned  end  for 
end,  is  usually  content  with  a  few  changes.  Perhaps  he 
carelessly  alters  the  order  of  his  chapters,  and  neglects 
to  note  that  the  earlier  chapter  has  something  in  it  that 
depends  on  the  following  chapter.  He  will  also  be  careless 
about  restating  his  ideas  in  their  best  form.  When  a  new 
truth  is  first  perceived  he  has  not  a  fixed  vocabulary  by 
which  to  express  it,  and  is  compelled  to  resort  to  round- 
about, involved  sentences.  Finally,  however,  he  stumbles 
upon  some  short,  expressive  term  or  phrase,  and  in  justice 
he  should  go  over  all  he  has  written  and  insert  the  new 
term  or  phrase.  But  he  will  not  do  this.  It  would  take 
too  much  work. 

All  writers  are  fond  of  their  first  half-truths  and  the 
spontaneous  mode  of  stating  them.  It  seldom  happens 
that  a  writer  thinks  he  has  done  as  well  in  the  full  ex- 
pression of  his  truth  as  when  he  merely  half  expressed  it. 


144  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

It  is  desperately  hard  for  a  man  to  throw  away  his  first 
evidence  that  he  is  becoming  an  original  thinker.  He 
holds  on  to  it  with  the  greatest  tenacity,  and  rolls  it  over 
in  his  mouth  as  a  sweet  morsel.  He  will  always  feel 
touchy  and  irritated  if  any  one  suggests  that  this  is  not 
the  greatest  thing  he  ever  did.  The  reader  will  not  have 
to  go  to  great  writers  to  find  this  peculiarity.  If  he 
happens  to  have  friends  who  have  written,  or  has  followed 
the  career  of  any  living  writer,  he  will  have  near  at  home 
the  evidence  of  what  I  say.  If  you  want  to  please, 
never  suggest  that  a  writer  is  improving  his  expression, 
or  that  he  saw  merely  a  half-truth  a  few  years  ago.  This 
weakness  affects  great  men  as  well  as  small,  and  leads 
them  to  retain  parts  of  the  first  statement  of  their  ideas, 
and  thus  gives  the  critic  a  ready  clue  to  the  order  in 
which  they  really  developed. 

The  first  English  philosophical  writer  worthy  of  careful 
study  is  Thomas  Hobbes.  His  central  thought  is  the 
power  of  the  king  and  his  right  to  absolute  sovereignty. 
It  is  a  doctrine  of  complete  non-resistance,  and  on  its 
face  is  a  mechanical  theory  of  society,  resulting  from 
the  application  of  the  laws  of  motion  to  social  affairs. 
According  to  this  analogy  there  must  be  certain  initial 
social  forces  acting  on  men  as  simply  and  as  irresistibly 
as  the  laws  of  motion  act  on  matter.  In  reality,  however, 
this  mechanical  shell  was  an  afterthought  conceived  when 
Hobbes  was  fascinated  by  the  study  of  physics  and  geome- 
try. To  get  at  the  real  development  of  his  doctrine  we 
must  go  behind  the  formal  presentation  that  he  is  fond  of 
giving. 

At  an  early  period  Hobbes  wrote,  or  at  least  thought 
out,  several  essays  on  social  topics.  It  was  not  the  custom 
then  as  it  is  now  for  writers  to  rush  into  print.  As  there 
were  no  outlets  for  essayists  such  as  we  now  have  in  maga- 
zines and  reviews,  it  was  practically  a  big  book  or  nothing. 


THE   CALVINISTS  145 

Hence  a  writer  would  show  his  essay  to  a  few  friends  and 
then  lay  it  aside.  In  this  way  we  must  suppose  Hobbes 
to  have  been  accumulating  material  until  about  his  fortieth 
year,  when  by  accident  he  saw  a  geometry  and  became 
interested  in  its  proofs.  This  incident  created  a  revolu- 
tion in  his  mode  of  thinking,  and  gave  him  a  new  method 
of  proof.  The  subjects  in  which  he  had  been  interested 
—  theology,  history,  and  the  like  —  seemed  to  him  now 
to  be  dogmatical.  The  higher  truth,  the  only  one  which 
is  free  from  controversy  and  dispute,  is  mathematical, 
and  this  latter  relates  only  to  figure  and  motion.  There- 
after Hobbes  applied  himself  to  mathematical  studies  with 
the  greatest  zeal  and  absorption.  Although  an  old  man, 
he  worked  with  the  ardour  of  youth  for  over  forty  years 
to  advance  mathematics  and  related  sciences.  Those 
versed  in  mathematics  say  he  did  nothing  of  importance 
in  this  field,  but  it  at  least  occupied  his  attention  and 
gave  him  his  methods  of  proof. 

So  absorbed  was  he  in  this  new  work  that  we  should 
probably  never  have  heard  of  his  earlier  essays  in  the 
realm  of  dogmatism  had  he  not  conceived  a  plan  of 
writing  a  complete  scheme  of  philosophy,  which  included 
the  older  realm  that  he  had  abandoned  in  his  ardour  for 
the  new.  He  now  did  a  very  natural  thing.  He  took  the 
old  essays,  trimmed  them  up  a  bit,  wrote  a  new  preface 
and  some  introductory  remarks,  and  then  incorporated 
them  into  his  scheme  for  the  new  philosophy.  Hobbes 
wrote  many  books  on  social  topics  under  divers  titles, 
but  if  the  new  settings  be  removed  and  the  introduction 
omitted,  the  body  of  all  these  books  is  that  of  the  old 
essays  written  in  his  youth.  He  was  merely  attempting  to 
transform  social  studies  from  dogmatical  into  mathematical 
sciences,  and  the  matter  was,  therefore,  of  much  less  conse- 
quence to  him  than  the  logic  and  the  form  of  presentation. 

Hence  we  must  separate  the  old  body  of  these  essays 
from  the  new  externals.     In  the  main  body  there  is  little 


146  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

change  ;  in  the  latter,  however,  there  is  a  development  of 
thought.  Hobbes  was  infatuated  with  the  laws  of  motion, 
particularly  with  the  new  doctrine  of  the  parallelogram 
of  forces.  He  was  led,  therefore,  to  seek  for  similar  forces 
in  the  social  realm.  One  of  these  he  had  already  described 
in  an  old  essay ;  the  other  is  the  thought  underlying  his 
famous  "state  of  war." 

This  idea  of  the  state  of  war  is  generally  assumed  to  be 
the  starting-point  of  Hobbes'  thinking.  It  was  really  an 
afterthought  used  to  bring  the  social  sciences  into  har- 
mony with  his  philosophical  scheme.  One  will  look  in 
vain  for  it  in  the  body  of  his  work  ;  it  is  to  be  found  only 
in  the  husks  and  introductions,  which  were  a  part  of  his 
living  thought  at  the  time  his  books  appeared.  We  may 
discard  all  that  Hobbes  says  about  a  state  of  war  without 
affecting  the  body  of  his  essays.  They  lose  their  original- 
ity by  this  process,  but  he  was  not  yet  original  when 
he  wrote  them.  He  was  merely  restating  the  thoughts 
of  others  with  minor  modifications. 

A  proof  of  the  newness  of  Hobbes'  notions  about  a 
natural  state  of  war  lies  in  his  way  of  stating  it.  If  he 
had  started  with  it,  he  would  not  have  forgotten  about 
it  as  soon  as  he  was  through  his  introductory  remarks. 
His  first  works  would  have  contained  the  same  clear,  con- 
cise expressions  of  the  idea  which  are  found  in  the  later 
writings.  In  his  earlier  works,  however,  he  talks  only  of 
the  condition  of  war,  or  sometimes  advancing  a  step 
farther  he  speaks  of  an  estate  of  war.  In  the  Leviathan 
the  nearest  he  comes  to  it  is  in  the  phrase  "  man  by  mere 
nature."  1  It  is  only  in  the  Philosophical  Rudiments  of 
Government  and  Society  that  the  thought  is  fully  expressed, 
and  there  he  has  a  note  explaining  its  meaning,  a  clear 
proof  that  the  thought  in  this  form  is  new  to  him,  and 
therefore  requires  explanation.2 

1  Molesworth's  edition,  Vol.  II,  p.  115.  *  Works,  Vol.  II,  p.  9. 


THE  CALVINISTS  147 

The  difference  between  a  condition  of  war  and  a  state  of 
war  may  seem  to  be  slight.  But  there  is  this  distinction  : 
A  condition  of  war  is  a  quality  of  something  —  of  a 
nation,  a  group,  or  a  man ;  while  a  state  of  war  is  a  pict- 
ure, a  concrete  reality  in  which  the  nation  or  man  is 
placed  with  all  the  belongings  necessary  to  his  existence. 
A  condition  of  war  means  that  men  and  nations  sometimes 
quarrel  and  fight,  or  at  least  show  a  disposition  to  fight.1 
A  state  of  war  means  that  for  a  given  period  in  the  history 
of  the  world  all  the  relations  into  which  men  entered  were 
determined  by  their  persistent  opposition  to  one  another. 
There  is,  therefore,  a  great  distance  between  the  thought 
of  a  condition  of  war  and  that  of  a  state  of  war,  and 
Hobbes  was  a  long  time  travelling  it.  In  fact,  one  may 
say  that  he  never  travelled  it,  because  it  is  evident  from 
the  note  to  which  I  have  called  attention  that  his  change 
of  position  was  forced  on  him  by  his  opponents.  Such 
expressions  were  natural  to  the  Puritans  and  harmonized 
with  their  mode  of  thought.  A  slight  glance  at  their 
writings,  the  Confession  of  Faith,  for  example,  will  show 
how  frequently  and  fondly  they  talked  of  "states,"  and 
of  passing  from  one  state  to  another.  They  had  states 
of  innocence  and  of  guilt,  of  purity  and  sin,  of  glory  and 
shame,  of  life  and  death,  of  grace  and  condemnation. 
These  states  were  not  qualities  of  men,  but  what  we 
should  now  call  complete  environments.  In  passing  from 
a  state  of  innocence  to  one  of  guilt,  the  whole  set  of 
conditions  making  up  the  environment,  and  the  whole 
group  of  internal  motives,  were  changed.  Nothing  of 
the  former  self  or  its  motives  remained.  So,  when  men 
were  purified  and  entered  a  state  of  glory,  they  left  be- 
hind them  every  element  of  their  former  state. 

Men  with  these  habits  of  thought  naturally  saw  Hobbes' 
doctrine  in  a  light  far  different  from  that  in  which  the 

»  Works,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  113. 


148  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

unimaginative  Hobbes  himself  saw  it,  and  they,  it  is  likely, 
put  it  in  its  final  shape.  But  Hobbes  could  not  picture 
in  the  Puritan  fashion;  he  saw  things  only  as  qualities 
of  other  things.  He  never  assumes  that  a  state  of  war 
makes  a  period  in  human  history  like  the  Garden  of 
Eden,  seen  so  clearly  by  the  Puritans.  In  the  note  to 
which  I  have  referred,  he  says  children  are  never  in  a 
state  of  nature.  On  page  109  of  the  same  volume  he 
shows  how  hypothetical  his  concept  was.  "  Let  us,"  he 
says,  "  return  again  to  the  state  of  nature,  and  consider 
men  as  if  but  even  now  sprung  out  of  the  earth,  and 
suddenly,  like  mushrooms,  come  to  full  maturity  without 
any  kind  of  engagement  to  each  other." *■ 

The  boy  Locke  was  to  talk  in  a  very  different  tone 
before  the  end  of  the  decade.  Here  is  his  picture  of  the 
Roman  Commonwealth.  "  Romulus,  at  the  head  of  a 
numerous  colony  from  Alba,  was  the  first  founder  of  the 
Roman  state.  This  colony  was,  in  the  original  state  of 
nature,  free,  and  independent  of  any  dominion  whatso- 
ever, and  only  chose  Romulus  for  their  leader  till  their 
new  city  was  built ;  and  they  were  at  liberty  to  consider 
what  form  of  government  they  should  resolve  upon."2 

Mr.  Bourne  in  commenting  on  this  passage  says  that  it 
shows  the  influence  of  Hobbes.  He  evidently  had  not 
studied  the  writings  of  Hobbes  closely,  or  he  would  have 
seen  that  Hobbes  had  not  imagination  enough  to  create 
such  a  picture.  On  the  contrary,  it  shows  what  we  know 
from  other  sources,  that  Locke  was  a  Puritan,  and  had  all 
their  power  to  make  pictures,  and  to  believe  that  what  he 
pictured  corresponded  to  the  reality.  He  was  merely 
visualizing  the  civil  world  as  they  did  the  religious  world, 

1  The  nearest  that  Hobbes  comes  to  conceiving  the  reality  of  a  state  of 
war  is  in  speaking  of  the  American  Indians,  B.  Ill,  p.  114.  But  here 
he  speaks  of  it  as  a  present  reality,  and  not  as  the  primitive  state  of  all 
men. 

3  Bourne's  Life  of  Locke,  Vol.  I,  p.  148. 


THE  CALVINISTS  149 

and  he  turned  to  Rome  instead  of  to  Palestine  for  his 
material. 

Even  if  Hobbes  could  have  visualized  the  origin  of 
Rome,  he  could  not  have  glorified  its  constitution  as  ideal 
to  the  extent  that  Locke  did.  Hobbes  did  not  believe  in 
ideal  states,  or  that  leopards  could  change  their  spots  by 
mere  washing.  In  his  opinion,  human  nature  had  perma- 
nent tendencies,  which,  although  checked  or  counteracted, 
were  ever  present  and  would  show  themselves  as  soon  as 
opportunity  permitted.  If  men  could  pass  from  a  state 
of  war  to  a  state  of  peace  as  the  Puritans  pictured  such 
states,  then  there  would  be  no  need  of  a  king  in  a  state 
of  peace.  But  Hobbes  did  not  carry  his  doctrine  so  far, 
nor  did  his  logic  demand  it.  He  merely  meant  to  say  that 
men  had  a  disposition  to  fight,  to  invade,  and  to  be  greedy, 
and  that  this  source  of  discord  could  be  avoided  only  by 
men  giving  up  their  wills  and  accepting  the  will  of  a 
sovereign.  Thus  interpreted,  Hobbes'  concept  has  mean- 
ing and  validity,  even  though  it  does  not  furnish  a 
solution  to  present  difficulties.  The  Puritans,  however, 
believed  that  an  entire  eradication  of  the  carnal  motives 
was  possible,  and  hence  a  state  might  be  attained  where 
kings  were  needless.  There  was  no  possible  compromise 
between  this  view  and  that  of  Hobbes.  Hobbes  could 
influence  English  thought  only  through  the  king's  party. 
To  judge  what  power  he  has  had,  we  must  examine  the 
contents  of  his  early  essays. 

In  the  Leviathan  Hobbes  has  reversed  the  order  in 
which  his  early  essays  were  written.  The  fourth  part,  or 
essay,  is  an  attack  on  the  Pope,  written  in  a  style  familiar 
to  Hobbes'  boyhood,  when  the  Pope  was  looked  upon  as 
the  Anti-Christ.  As  a  mature  man  Hobbes  must  have 
known  better  than  to  make  such  charges,  and  the  essay 
would  probably  never  have  seen  the  light  but  for  a  reason 
I  shall  explain  in  another  connection.  The  third  essay 
also  deals  with  the  Catholic  problem.     It  contains,  how- 


150  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

ever,  an  important  discussion  which  shows  clearly  where 
Hobbes  made  his  first  start  in  independent  thinking.  In 
1610  Cardinal  Bellarmine  published  a  book  on  the  power 
of  the  Pope,  in  which  he  presented  the  doctrine  of  the 
indivisibility  of  sovereignty.  He  contended,  as  Hobbes 
did  subsequently,  that  there  was  but  one  commonwealth, — 
the  Church,  —  of  which  kings  and  popes,  clergy  and  laity, 
were  but  parts.  From  this  it  follows  that  the  spiritual 
power  is  supreme,  and  that  kings,  like  their  subjects,  must 
take  orders  from  the  Pope.  Hobbes  accepts  this  concept 
of  a  commonwealth,  but  denies  that  there  is  a  single  com- 
monwealth to  which  the  whole  race  belongs.  There 
are,  he  contends,  several  commonwealths,  —  France,  Spain, 
Venice,  etc.,  —  each  of  which  is  a  complete  unit  with  a 
sovereign  at  its  head.  These  individual  sovereigns  have 
the  supreme  authority  in  their  own  states,  and  the  Pope 
has  no  power  but  by  their  consent.  Having  assumed  this 
bold  position,  Hobbes  goes  a  step  farther,  and  denies  that 
there  is  any  spiritual  realm  on  earth,  and  finally  declares 
that  Christ  gave  no  authority  to  His  disciples.  They  were 
to  be  servants,  not  masters.  These  ideas  are  enforced 
with  much  good  logic  and  an  abundance  of  Scriptural 
quotations.  Hobbes  has  evidently  his  main  thesis  well  in 
hand.  Bellarmine's  book  was  the  right  stimulus  to  bring 
it  out. 

In  the  second  essay  we  arrive  at  the  period  in  his  life 
when  Puritans  are  making  their  influence  felt.  From 
them  he  gets  a  new  thesis.  The  Puritan  picture  of  a 
covenant  represents  the  people  assembled  before  Mount 
Sinai  making  an  agreement  between  themselves  and  God. 
To  their  mind,  government  is  of  divine  origin  ;  covenants 
are  sacred  and  their  violation  is  punished  by  God.  The 
Puritans  have  no  king  in  their  picture.  Kings  are  a  mere 
incident  of  later  origin  ;  they  have  no  independent  place, 
and  are  useless  in  a  state  of  grace  where  all  relations  are 
direct  between  the  people  and  God.    The  Puritans  empha- 


THE  CALVINISTS  151 

sized  the  unity  of  the  people,  and  pictured  themselves 
gathered  in  a  body  at  the  foot  of  the  sacred  mount. 
Hobbes,  however,  wants  good  government  to  be  only  a 
bond  between  men.  A  government  must  have  force  and 
a  will,  and  this  is  possible  only  when  the  mass  of  men 
submit  to  the  will  of  one  person.  We  thus  get  the  pict- 
ure of  the  great  Leviathan,  a  purely  artificial  body  of 
secular  origin,  with  all  the  qualities  of  the  natural  body 
and  an  equally  strong  will. 

This  picture  does  not  need  an  antecedent  state  of  war 
to  make  it  vivid.  The  emphasis  lies  in  the  secular  as 
opposed  to  the  sacred  origin  of  government,  and  in  the 
need  of  force  and  will  to  make  it  effective.  The  Puritan 
concept  needs  neither  of  these  in  a  human  form.  The 
wrath  of  God  thundering  from  the  sacred  mount  is 
always  sufficient  to  indicate  the  right  path.  God  fights 
the  battles  of  the  righteous,  and  punishes,  rather  than 
rewards,  man's  efforts  at  self-help.  If  Hobbes  would  con- 
trovert the  Puritan  position,  he  must  search  for  natural 
motives  strong  enough  to  induce  men  on  their  own  account 
to  submit  to  government.  At  this  juncture  he  brings  to 
his  aid  the  law  of  nature,  which  had  recently  been  devel- 
oped and  expounded  on  the  Continent. 

In  the  Leviathan  the  discussion  of  the  law  of  nature  is 
put  in  the  first  essay,  but  in  his  earlier  works  Hobbes  put 
it  in  the  essay  on  covenants  and  forms  of  government. 
This  shows  that  before  he  had  thought  of  the  state  of 
war  he  found  the  natural  motives  for  submitting  to  gov- 
ernment in  the  love  of  peace,  and  in  the  economic  motives 
that  the  love  of  well-being  creates.  Hobbes  never  lost 
sight  of  the  economic  motives,  and  he  must  have  seen 
their  importance  before  he  thought  of  the  fear  of  war. 
To  say  the  least,  these  laws  of  nature  as  they  lay  before 
him  in  his  early  writings  had  this  form,  and  to  apply 
them  as  they  stood  was  an  easy  task  as  soon  as 
Hobbes  conceived  of  government  as  natural  and  due  to 


152  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

human  motives.  How  he  would  subsequently  modify  them 
is  the  important  point  to  be  studied  in  the  essay  on  "  Man," 
which  was  evidently  written  after  he  became  infatuated 
with  geometry  and  physics.  The  laws  of  nature  had 
already  been  formulated,  and  from  them  he  got  much  of 
his  material.  Together,  he  says,  they  form  the  group  of 
motives  that  make  men  love  society.  To  get  the  parallelo- 
gram of  forces  needed  in  his  mechanical  theory  of  society, 
Hobbes  had  only  to  introduce  fear  as  a  motive  to  submis- 
sion to  the  will  of  a  superior.  A  very  slight  change  —  a 
single  addition  to  the  conventional  laws  of  nature  —  suf- 
fice to  give  what  was  needed.  Then  his  whole  book 
assumed  a  mathematical  air,  and  the  old  essays  had  a  new 
meaning.  It  is  marvellous  how  easy  it  is  to  transform 
youthful  performances  and  partly  proved  inductions  into 
rigid  deductions. 

But  will  this  solution  satisfy  any  of  the  parties  involved 
in  the  great  crisis  ?  I  have  already  pointed  out  why  it 
could  not  satisfy  the  Puritans,  and  the  opposition  between 
Hobbes  and  them  is  only  increased  by  the  argument  in 
the  second  essay.  The  first  and  second  essays  might 
have  appealed  to  the  king's  party ;  the  third,  however, 
could  not  but  arouse  violent  opposition. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  most  of  the  king's  friends 
belonged  psychically  to  the  type  I  have  called  dingers, 
who  held  tenaciously  to  old  forms  and  fought  every 
innovation.  The  drill  of  the  Church  had  caused  them 
to  give  the  first  place  to  spiritual  leaders.  They  were 
not  yet  even  ready  for  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  right  of 
kings.  To  give  up  all  their  cherished  notions  was  impos- 
sible, even  for  their  king's  sake.  The  king  himself  could 
not  look  at  the  matter  through  the  eyes  of  Hobbes. 
The  favourite  maxim  of  his  house  —  "No  bishops  no 
king  "  —  implied  that  bishops  made  kings,  not  that  kings 
made  bishops.  The  king  might  endure  Hobbes,  but  he 
could  not  help  him  or  accept  his  solution  of  the  difficulties. 


THE   CALVINISTS  153 

What,  then,  did  Hobbes  hope  to  accomplish?  Did  he 
deceive  himself  into  believing  that  his  logic  was  more 
convincing  than  it  was?  He  has  at  different  times 
offered  several  explanations  of  his  motives  in  issuing 
the  Leviathan,  but  only  one  of  them  has  any  degree  of 
probability.  Hobbes  had  given  up  hopes  of  the  king's 
succeeding  in  the  conflict.  He  therefore  advised  sub- 
mission to  the  inevitable.  The  book  was  addressed  not 
to  the  Puritans,  nor  to  the  scholar,  but  to  his  own  van- 
quished friends.  Viewed  in  this  way,  it  is  easy  to  see 
why  the  old  Catholic  controversy  was  revived.  Hobbes 
knew  that  numerous  members  of  his  party  were  friendly 
not  only  to  the  king,  but  also  to  the  Pope.  He  advised 
them,  therefore,  to  yield  to  the  inevitable,  both  in  poli- 
tics and  in  religion.  The  Puritans  were  masters  of  the 
situation  in  both  fields.  One  wronged  neither  his  king 
nor  his  religion  by  making  the  best  of  what  could  not  be 
helped.  Both  were  lost  causes.  This  position  could  not 
be  displeasing  to  the  Puritans  even  if  the  second  essay 
was  not  to  their  liking.  While  they  were  in  power, 
Hobbes  could  freely  boast  that  he  had  won  over  a  thou- 
sand gentlemen  to  the  Puritan  cause,  and  it  certainly 
seemed  for  a  while  that  he  had  furnished  a  solution  of 
the  difficulties.  But  almost  with  a  flash  the  situation 
changed,  and  then  poor  Hobbes  was  forced  for  the  rest 
of  his  life  to  keep  devising  new  explanations  for  the 
form  in  which  the  Leviathan  appeared. 

Hobbes'  solution  could  not  have  been  an  enduring 
remedy  for  the  existing  evils,  even  if  the  Puritans  had 
succeeded.  So  far  as  his  works  pretend  to  be  a  study 
of  human  nature,  they  border  on  the  farcical.  If  the 
early  essays  are  thrown  out,  the  rest  of  his  work  is  very 
fragmentary.  Instead  of  studying  human  nature  at  first 
hand  in  the  actions  and  characters  of  his  countrymen, 
Hobbes  was  content  with  mere  definitions  of  the  leading 
springs  to  action.    His  lists  of  them  were  very  incomplete, 


154  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

were  compiled  without  any  plan,  and  did  not  harmonize 
with  each  other.  Each  time  he  wrote,  he  evidently  jotted 
down  whatever  motives  he  happened  to  think  of,  defin- 
ing them  as  he  wrote.  There  is  not  one  fresh  study  of 
human  nature  in  all  his  volumes,  nor  one  analysis  of 
which  he  could  be  justly  proud.  It  must  be  admitted 
that  he  had  the  right  attitude.  The  trouble  is  that  by 
the  time  he  was  capable  of  doing  good  work  he  had 
acquired  a  taste  for  mathematics,  to  which  he  gave  all 
his  energy.  In  trying  to  do  what  he  could  not  do,  he 
failed  to  do  what  he  might  have  done  well.  Nor  do  I 
think  it  is  any  excuse  to  say  that  he  was  the  first  to 
enter  a  new  field  and  therefore  could  not  be  expected 
to  do  more.  The  history  of  great  thinkers  shows  that 
the  real  battle  is  in  getting  into  the  right  attitude  for 
work,  and  not  in  getting  material  to  work  with.  Locke, 
with  no  better  advantages,  did  splendid  work  simply 
because  his  heart  was  in  it. 

The  worst  of  it  is  that  Hobbes'  careless  work  has  been 
the  curse  of  psychic  studies  ever  since.  Good  thinkers 
have  been  thrown  off  the  track,  and  prejudices  created 
which  centuries  have  not  destroyed.  Psychology  is  just 
beginning  to  recover  from  the  blow  he  gave  it.  I  do 
not  object  to  a  mechanical  way  of  looking  at  human 
nature.  No  matter  what  may  be  the  final  conclusion, 
the  beginning  must  be  rigidly  mechanical.  The  vice  of 
Hobbes  was  that  he  was  looking  into  the  air  and  not  at 
human  nature  at  all.  There  is  no  excuse  for  his  pre- 
tended analysis  of  English  character.  To  live  among 
the  Puritans  and  then  to  assert  that  their  only  motives 
were  fear  of  men  and  vainglory  shows  that  he  consulted 
his  prejudices  more  than  his  eyes.  Nor  did  he  hesitate 
to  deny  the  plainest  facts  if  they  were  against  him. 
When,  for  example,  he  says  that  the  Pope  has  no  power 
except  what  the  sovereigns  of  the  various  countries  give 
him,  one  can  but  wonder  where  Hobbes  got  his  history. 


THE  CALVINISTS  155 

Had  he  never  heard  of  Canossa?  The  very  instincts 
of  obedience  and  love  of  peace,  on  which  he  prided  him- 
self, were  due  to  the  power  whose  existence  he  so  boldly 
denied.  As  compared  with  the  rule  of  the  Pope,  the 
rule  of  kings  was,  in  Hobbes'  time,  merely  a  thing  of 
to-day.  Even  the  strongest  of  kings  trembled  at  the 
thought  of  the  Pope's  anger ;  and  Hobbes'  premature 
birth  was,  according  to  his  own  story,  due  to  the  terror 
that  the  Pope's  power  inspired.  And  yet  he  boldly  denied 
its  existence. 

To  illustrate  more  fully  Hobbes'  careless  methods,  let 
us  examine  his  famous  analysis  of  motives  into  glory  and 
fear.  Pleasure,  as  a  motive,  he  tells  us,  causes  one  to 
approach  the  things  that  please,  while  pain  creates  a 
desire  to  withdraw.  Glory  is  the  triumph  of  approach, 
while  the  withdrawal  from  pain  is  fear.  Two  particular 
passions  are  thus  raised  to  the  level  of  primary  mental 
states  and  coordinated  with  them.  His  underlying  assump- 
tion is  that  all  pleasure  excites  a  feeling  of  glory  and  all 
pain  excites  fear.  But  this  is  not  good  psychology.  The 
feeling  of  pain  can  create  a  shrinking  called  fear,  but  it 
may  equally  well  excite  that  kind  of  approach  we  call 
wrath.  Wrath  and  fear  are  both  the  effects  of  pain,  and 
we  cannot  be  sure  which  motive  will  be  excited  until 
we  know  more  of  the  mental  mechanism  of  the  suffer- 
ing creature  than  Hobbes'  analysis  supplies.  If  pleas- 
ure excites  approach,  wrath  excites  a  violent  approach,  — 
a  kind  of  approach  arousing  fear  not  in  the  one  approach- 
ing, but  in  the  thing  or  creature  approached.  We  thus 
have  the  tables  turned,  and  a  reaction  caused  by  pain 
becomes  a  more  important  phenomenon  than  pleasure  or 
pain  in  any  other  form.  There  was  nothing  in  the  primi- 
tive world  so  dreadful  as  wrath.  It  is  a  phenomenon  of  first 
rank  among  animals  as  well  as  among  men,  and  from  it 
spring  all  the  important  primitive  motives.  Of  course 
both  men  and  animals  exist  to  whom  pain  is  the  cause  of 


156  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

fear,  but  men  of  this  type  did  not  make  the  society  in 
which  Hobbes  lived.  The  very  first  instinct  of  an  English- 
man was  to  rap  over  the  head  anybody  who  displeased 
him.  Hobbes'  career  was  a  patent  example  of  how  pain 
creates  wrath.  His  opponents  did  not  shrink  or  run  when 
hurt  by  his  words  or  mode  of  thought.  They  had  their 
weapons  out  the  moment  he  spoke,  and  did  not  cease  their 
wrathful  approach  until  long  after  he  was  dead. 

The  motives  that  led  primitive  men  to  enter  societies 
were  due  to  the  evils  of  wrath.  Every  primitive  man  or 
clan  was  eager  to  resent  pain  and  to  strike  indiscriminately 
at  any  person  or  group  who  appeared  to  be  its  source.  The 
men  who  made  early  societies  did  not  fear  each  other.  The 
covenant  they  made  was  to  be  careful  in  wrath,  and  to  let 
the  proper  vengeance  be  executed  not  by  themselves  but 
by  their  chosen  leaders.  The  restraint  of  wrath  and  re- 
venge, not  protection  from  fear,  is  the  first  step  towards 
social  unity. 

This  same  wrath  has  been  a  prime  factor  in  religion. 
The  Hebrews  pictured  God  as  a  God  of  wrath  because 
they  conceived  Him  as  possessed  with  motives  and  feelings 
similar  to  those  of  men.  Had  not  their  first  instinct  been 
to  react  against  pain,  they  would  not  have  made  the  wrath 
of  God  so  prominent  an  element  in  their  religion.  Even 
after  the  prophets  taught  that  God  was  a  God  of  justice,  the 
fact  was  still  emphasized  that  God  was  a  God  of  wrath. 
Justice  is  intelligent,  well-directed  wrath.  Religion  and 
morality  are  thus  offshoots  of  wrath.  Bravery,  liberty, 
and  good  government  are  all  based  on  wrath,  not  on  fear. 
Every  state  seeks  to  turn  pain  into  a  motive  of  approach, 
and  to  brand  with  disgrace  any  shrinking  through  fear. 
The  reactions  due  to  pain  thus  created  the  leading  marks 
by  which  to  determine  character  in  primitive  races.  Pain 
created  their  virtues  as  well  as  their  defects. 

Hobbes'  definitions  of  virtues  and  motives,  when  a  little 
more  expanded  and  concretely  applied,  become  parodies  on 


THE  CALVINISTS  157 

the  Puritan  character.  I  suspect  him  of  having  utilized 
material  with  which  he  had  amused  his  friends  during  his 
long  exile.  This  may  wrong  him,  but,  to  say  the  least, 
such  misrepresentation  of  Puritan  virtues  was  at  that  time 
the  common  stock  of  wits.  It  only  remained  for  Hobbes 
to  transform  it  into  philosophy.  Being  at  this  time  par- 
ticularly anxious  to  please  the  Puritans,  he  eradicated  all 
concrete  illustrations  that  would  stir  up  old  rancour.  Thus 
he  got  himself  out  of  present  difficulties,  but  by  passing 
off  a  caricature  of  the  Puritans  as  a  picture  of  human 
nature,  he  created  new  difficulties  of  a  more  serious 
nature. 

There  were  in  the  world  races  of  whom  Hobbes'  de- 
scriptions would  have  been  true.  Timid  or  oppressed 
races  in  the  difficulties  that  troubled  England,  would 
have  embraced  Hobbes'  philosophy.  They  would  have 
had  the  motor  responses  needed  to  carry  such  a  phi- 
losophy into  effect.  An  Englishman,  however,  did 
not  have  a  mental  mechanism  capable  of  responding  to 
such  stimuli.  It  only  aroused  his  wrath  and  made  him 
more  stubborn  than  before.  Hobbes  did  not,  therefore, 
solve  the  difficulties  of  his  day.  The  three  parties  kept 
up  their  triangular  fight,  and  wearied  every  one  by  fol- 
lowing their  own  instincts  without  regard  to  conse- 
quences. Hobbes  merely  added  fuel  to  the  flame  by 
creating  a  bitter  prejudice  against  reasoning — the  only 
remedy  for  the  evils  of  blind  instinct.  Conscious  thought 
will,  however,  do  its  work  in  spite  of  obstacles.  We 
must  now  turn  to  the  work  of  a  man  who  really  studied 
human  nature,  and  see  how  he  finds  a  solution  in  the  very 
field  where  Hobbes  failed. 

The  Germans,  who  were  the  first  to  recognize  the  impor- 
tance of  the  history  of  philosophy,  naturally  interpret  it  in 
the  light  of  their  own  history.  A  foreign  writer  gets  a 
place  in  their  scheme  for  the  influence  he  exerted  not  at 


158  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

home,  but  with  them.  This  attitude  is  legitimate  for  a 
German,  but  not  for  an  Englishman  who  wishes  to  under- 
stand the  mental  development  of  his  own  countrymen. 
Unfortunately  English  philosophers,  having  obtained  their 
ideas  from  Germany,  try  to  make  Englishmen  look  at  the 
development  of  thought  through  German  eyes.  Professor 
Green,  for  example,  says  that  every  true  philosopher  is  the 
mouthpiece  of  a  certain  system  of  thought  determined  for 
him  by  the  conditions  of  philosophical  progress,  and  the 
philosopher  starts  out  with  a  "  problem  "  and  a  "  method," 
the  problem  to  be  solved  by  the  method.1  When  this  scheme 
of  philosophical  interpretation  is  applied  to  Locke,  it  is 
found  that  the  problem  from  which  Locke  starts  is  the  origin 
of  "  ideas  "  and  his  method  is  that  of  "  looking  into  his  own 
understanding  and  seeing  how  it  is  wrought."  But  is  it 
not  a  little  odd  to  find  a  man  who  starts  with  so  clear  a 
plan  and  so  simple  a  method  using  up  a  whole  book 
before  he  thinks  of  looking  into  his  own  mind  at  all  ?  In 
the  first  book  of  the  Essay  Locke  makes  no  examination 
of  the  contents  of  his  mind.  He  is  trying  to  find  what 
other  people  think  of  certain  current  notions.  He  turns 
therefore  to  children,  savages,  and  idiots,  supplementing 
what  he  observes  in  these  cases  by  the  reports  of  travellers. 
In  this  book  he  is  merely  a  social  psychologist;  it  is  only 
in  the  second  book  that  he  becomes  a  self  psychologist 
with  no  material  but  his  own  ideas.  Between  the  two 
books  there  is  an  immense  gulf  which  represents  years  of 
development.  Had  Locke  started  with  philosophical  prob- 
lems and  methods  as  Professor  Green  asserts,  there  would 
have  been  no  Book  I.,  and  his  proof  would  have  been  de- 
fective unless  the  other  parts  had  been  rewritten  and  new 
arguments  devised.  It  is  this  transformation  of  a  mere 
observer  of  other  people  into  a  close  observer  of  himself 
that   makes   his   development   interesting   and   valuable. 

1  Works  of  T.  H.  Green,  Vol.  I,  p.  6. 


THE   CALVINISTS  159 

Had  he  started  from  the  origin  of  ideas,  he  might  have 
built  up  a  more  consistent  system,  but  he  would  not  have 
won  the  place  he  now  holds  in  the  history  of  thought. 

Professor  Green  has  simply  turned  Locke's  development 
the  other  way  about.  Locke  does  not  begin  with  a  "prob- 
lem "  and  a  "  method  "  ;  he  ends  with  them.  Locke's  in- 
fluence in  Germany  begins  at  the  point  where  it  left  off  in 
England.  He  penetrates  the  German  world  with  the  prob- 
lem and  the  method,  the  perception  of  which  ended  his 
career  as  a  thinker  in  England.  For  English  thought  the 
question  is  how  did  he  acquire  this  problem  and  method  ? 
for  German  thought  the  question  is  what  is  to  be  done 
with  them  ?  Judged  from  this  and  similar  cases,  it  has 
been  the  task  of  English  thought  to  start  problems  for 
Germans  to  settle.  In  our  analysis  therefore  of  his  work 
we  ought  not  to  use  German  methods  of  interpretation. 

Locke's  great  book  on  the  Human  Understanding,  it 
must  be  admitted,  furnishes  little  evidence  in  support  of 
my  assertion  that  he  was  an  economist  on  the  upward  curve 
from  observation  to  philosophy.  The  most  that  can  be 
said  is  that  in  the  first  book  he  had  not  yet  abandoned  the 
method  of  an  economist,  the  facts  presented  being  still 
social.  There  is,  however,  other  satisfactory  proof.  Here 
is  Locke's  view  of  life  as  given  in  his  journal :  "  So  that 
if  we  will  consider  man  as  in  the  world,  and  that  his 
mind  and  faculties  were  given  him  for  any  use,  we  must 
necessarily  conclude  it  must  be  to  produce  him  the  happi- 
ness which  this  world  is  capable  of,  which  certainly  is 
nothing  else  but  plenty  of  all  sorts  of  those  things  which 
can  with  most  care,  pleasure,  and  variety,  preserve  him 
longest  in  it ;  so  that,  had  mankind  no  concernment  but 
in  the  world,  no  apprehensions  of  any  being  after  this  life, 
they  need  trouble  their  heads  about  nothing  but  the  his- 
tory of  Nature,  and  an  inquiry  into  the  quality  of  the 
things  in  the  mansion  of  the  universe  which  hath  fallen  to 


160  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

their  lot,  and  being  well  skilled  in  the  knowledge  of  mate- 
rial causes  and  effect  of  things  in  their  power,  and  direct- 
ing their  thoughts  to  the  improvement  of  such  arts  and 
inventions,  engines  and  utensils,  as  might  best  contribute 
to  their  continuation  in  it  with  conveniency  and  delight, 
they  might  well  spare  themselves  the  trouble  of  looking 
any  further  ;  they  need  not  perplex  themselves  about  the 
original  frame  or  constitution  of  the  universe,  drawing  the 
great  machine  into  systems  of  their  own  contrivance,  and 
building  hypotheses,  obscure,  perplexed  and  of  no  other 
use  but  to  raise  dispute  and  continual  wrangling."1 

This  passage,  which  is  one  of  many  like  it,  gives  the 
key  to  Locke's  view  of  life.  Apart  from  religion,  the  end 
of  man  is  to  secure  "  a  plenty  of  the  good  things  of  this 
world,  with  life,  health,  and  peace  to  enjoy  them."  The 
standpoint  is  thoroughly  economic,  and  if  nothing  had 
disturbed  his  peace  of  mind,  he  would  doubtless  have 
enjoyed  these  good  things,  and  continued  his  economic 
reveries  to  the  end  of  his  days.  Fortunately  for  us  these 
reveries  were  interrupted,  and  he  was  forced  to  grapple 
with  problems,  the  solution  of  which  he  had  condemned 
as  useless. 

Locke,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  by  education  and 
sentiment  a  Puritan.  The  vigour  of  his  imagination  has 
already  been  shown  in  his  picture  of  the  origin  of  Rome. 
Had  he  been  a  man  of  strong  constitution  he  might  have 
forestalled  Rousseau  and  led  the  Puritans  on  to  new  vic- 
tories. But  consumption,  the  bane  of  the  Puritans,  was 
fastening  itself  upon  him,  and  dragging  him  out  of  the 
active  world.  As  his  energy  was  gradually  reduced,  he 
lost  his  taste  for  vivid  pictures,  and  no  longer  sympathized 
with  those  who  were  moved  by  their  mental  visions. 
Locke,  in  short,  was  a  Puritan  plus  the  ideal  of  comfort. 
Little  as  this  addition  seems,  yet  it  created  an  impassable 


1  King's  Life  of  Locke,  p.  88. 


THE   CALVINISTS  161 

gulf  between  him  and  other  Puritans.  In  defending  com- 
fort and  the  material  means  upon  which  it  depends,  Locke 
is  compelled  to  assume  a  position  opposed  to  that  of  the 
Puritans.  To  justify  recreation  he  says  :  "  In  things  not 
absolutely  commanded  or  forbidden  by  the  law  of  God, 
such  as  the  material  part  of  recreation,  He,  in  His  mercy 
considering  our  ignorance  and  frail  constitution,  hath  not 
tied  us  to  an  invisible  point,  nor  confined  us  to  a  way  so 
narrow  that  allows  no  latitude  at  all  in  things  in  their 
own  nature  indifferent ;  there  is  the  liberty  of  great  choice, 
great  variety,  within  the  bounds  of  innocence." 

This  position,  to  which  Locke  is  forced  by  his  "  frail 
constitution,"  is  the  starting-point  of  his  positive  thought. 
In  fact,  it  might  be  said  that  this  sentence  expresses  in  a 
concrete  form  his  whole  philosophy.  Having  once  grasped 
the  idea  that  there  are  "  things  in  their  own  nature  indif- 
ferent," that  is,  acts  that  are  neither  good  nor  bad,  he 
never  loses  sight  of  it.  Puritanism  had  no  third  category. 
All  was  bad  that  was  not  good,  and  the  more  strict  went 
even  farther,  and  said  that  all  was  bad  that  was  not  com- 
manded by  the  Word  of  God.  Their  intense  conviction 
that  nothing  is  really  indifferent  was  the  source  at  once 
of  their  strength  and  their  weakness.  Their  vivid  con- 
sciences made  their  character  and  gave  them  their  power  ; 
but  when  conscience  became  over-conscientiousness,  their 
downfall  was  near.  Locke  does  not  use  the  term  "  over- 
conscientiousness,"  but  he  implies  it  in  the  word  "  enthu- 
siasm," which  is  coupled  with  superstition  as  the  two 
mental  states  to  be  avoided.  Enthusiasm  includes  all 
that  he  believed  to  be  the  vice  of  Puritanism,  while  super- 
stition represented  the  failings  of  the  class  I  have  called 
dingers,  or  more  concretely,  the  Catholic  party.  Locke 
rarely  alludes  to  superstition,  but  he  is  never  weary  of 
attacking  enthusiasm.  In  an  early  letter  from  Germany 
describing  the  Calvinists  (who,  he  says,  "  differ  very  little 
from   our   English   Presbyterians "),  he  writes,   "  I   met 


162  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

lately,  accidentally,  with  a  young  sucking  divine,  that 
thought  himself  no  small  champion ;  who,  as  if  he  had 
been  some  knight-errant,  bound  by  oath  to  bid  battle  to 
all  comers,  first  accosted  me  in  a  courteous  voice ;  but,  the 
customary  salute  being  over,  I  found  myself  assailed  most 
furiously,  and  heavy  loads  of  arguments  fell  upon  me 
until  passion  and  want  of  breath  made  him  weary."  No 
wonder  Locke  disliked  displays  of  enthusiasm,  for  the 
quiet  life  his  health  demanded  could  not  be  secured  until 
some  safeguard  had  been  erected  against  these  assaults. 

Locke's  philosophical  development,  however,  does  not 
begin  with  this  necessary  defence  of  himself,  but  in  his 
endeavours  to  relieve  his  friends  from  the  burdens  imposed 
on  them  by  their  beliefs.  His  primary  office  was  that  of 
a  conscience  soother.  His  early  letters  show  that  he 
was  continually  appealed  to  by  friends  conscience-stricken 
over  some  supposed  failure  to  do  their  full  duty.  In  this 
office  he  develops  the  doctrine  of  indifference  which  is  the 
real  basis  of  his  philosophy.  A  perception  of  this  doc- 
trine is  to  him  the  great  requisite  to  a  healthy  training  of 
the  understanding,  and  without  it  no  calm  reasoning  is 
possible. 

But  from  the  Puritan  standpoint  there  could  be  nothing 
indifferent.  This  position  harmonized  with  the  word  pict- 
ures created  by  their  vivid  imaginations  and  with  their 
concept  of  personality.  Their  goods,  their  social  position, 
and  their  actions  were  regarded  not  as  objective  things, 
but  as  indexes  of  character.  There  was  only  one  way  of 
acting  in  each  particular  situation.  Not  even  the  cut  of 
the  hair  or  the  shape  of  the  coat  was  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence. Any  slight  deviation  was  looked  on  as  an  index  of 
greater  failings ;  the  innovator  became  conscience-stricken, 
and  suffered  as  severely  as  if  he  had  broken  a  command- 
ment. An  enlarged  personality,  vivified  by  a  quick 
imagination,  makes  all  little  things  assume  great  propor- 
tions.    The  spirit  of  the  law  is  lost  sight  of  in  the  letter. 


THE   CALVINISTS  163 

It  was  this  mode  of  thinking  that  Locke  tried  to  destroy, 
and  he  never  rested  until  his  efforts  were  crowned  with 
success. 

The  doctrine  of  indifference  assumes  that  the  field  of 
morality  is  not  coextensive  with  human  activity.  In 
addition  to  the  good  and  the  bad,  there  is  a  third  cate- 
gory, —  the  adiaphorous,  or  indifferent.  This  thought 
inevitably  leads  to  an  entirely  new  concept  of  morality 
and  of  social  relations.  The  old  morality  was  based  on 
the  solidarity  of  responsibility,  and  while  it  remained  a 
vivid  concept  nothing  was  adiaphorous.  The  interest  of 
the  individual  was  subordinated  to  the  public  interest, 
and  any  indifference  on  his  part  to  the  general  welfare 
brought  evils  not  only  upon  him,  but  on  the  whole  com- 
munity. Locke  had  no  slight  task  to  perform,  but  he 
did  his  work  so  skilfully  that  public  opinion  was  trans- 
formed, and  a  new  moral  attitude  acquired  without  any 
one  realizing  how  much  was  involved  or  what  was  sac- 
rificed. 

The  doctrine  of  indifference  is  best  worked  out  in  the 
essay  on  "Toleration."  Here  Locke  had  the  coopera- 
tion of  the  latitudinarian  churchmen,  but  he  carried  the 
thought  much  further  than  they  did,  and  enunciated 
principles  that  they  could  not  have  accepted  if  they  had 
clearly  understood  them.  The  same  doctrine  is  promi- 
nent in  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,  and  also  in 
the  third  book  of  the  Essay,  which  is  doubtless  one 
of  its  oldest  portions.  It  may  seem  far  fetched  to  con- 
nect the  doctrine  of  indifference  with  Locke's  attack  on 
the  loose  and  indefinite  use  of  words,  but  an  inaccurate 
use  of  words  was  always  associated  in  his  mind  with  that 
"  enthusiasm  "  which  he  so  much  dreaded.  In  his  opin- 
ion, enthusiasm  was  due  to  a  vivid  imagination  adding 
indefinite,  general  meanings  to  words.  Word  picturing 
was  a  marked  trait  of  the  Puritans,  so  that  a  word  with 
some  simple  connotation  called  up  a  complex  picture  of 


164  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

a  host  of  things  not  properly  in  the  meaning  of  the  word. 
A  vivid  imagination  causes  a  kind  of  visual  overgrowth, 
—  everything  coming  out  of  the  mind  in  a  different  form 
from  that  in  which  the  elements  went  in.  Locke  found 
that  an  accurate  use  of  words  was  the  most  effective 
means  of  curing  these  imaginative  tendencies  of  the 
Puritans. 

The  principle  of  indifference  appears  also  at  the  end 
of  the  second  book  of  the  Ussay,  in  the  chapter  on 
the  association  of  ideas.  According  to  Locke,  the  asso- 
ciation of  ideas  is  a  great  evil  due  to  bad  education. 
By  continually  putting  together  things  that  have  no 
inherent  connection,  the  different  philosophical  and  re- 
ligious sects  create  wrong  and  unnatural  combinations 
of  ideas,  which  make  their  followers  unable  to  pursue 
the  truth  sincerely.  "Some  independent  ideas,  of  no 
alliance  to  one  another,"  he  says,  "are,  by  education, 
custom,  and  the  constant  idea  of  their  party,  so  coupled 
in  their  minds  that  they  always  appear  there  together, 
and  they  can  no  more  separate  them  in  their  thoughts 
than  if  they  were  but  one  idea."  The  cure  for  this  evil 
lies  in  a  cold  isolation,  so  that  it  is  a  matter  of  no  con- 
sequence to  the  thinker  in  what  combinations  ideas  enter. 
This  he  holds  is  the  only  method  of  reasoning  clearly  and 
distinctly ;  those  who  follow  it  will  have  no  pangs  of  con- 
science due  to  the  wrong  association  of  ideas.  All  things 
of  reason  are  matters  of  indifference,  and  hence  outside 
of  religious  control.  Conscience  (the  inner  light)  is,  in 
Locke's  opinion,  as  bad  as  Romanism.1  Conscience  stands 
for  the  false  combination  of  ideas  formed  by  enthusiasm, 
and  Romanism  for  those  formed  by  superstition.  A  com- 
plete indifference  to  all  opinions  avoids  both  these  evils 
and  allows  the  dictates  of  reason  to  assert  themselves. 

The  influence  of  this  principle  of  indifference  on  Eng- 

1  King's  Life  of  Locke,  p.  103. 


THE   CALVINISTS  165 

lish  thought  makes  it  by  far  Locke's  most  important  con- 
tribution ;  yet  if  he  had  not  opened  a  second  campaign 
against  the  mental  habits  he  disliked,  he  would  not  have 
contributed  much  to  the  development  of  philosophy. 
At  some  period  in  the  growth  of  the  Essay,  it  probably 
contained  little  more  than  a  pronounced  attack  on  the 
evils  of  enthusiasm.  If  the  second  book  On  Ideas  —  un- 
doubtedly the  last  to  be  written  —  had  been  left  out,  and 
the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding  inserted  in  its  place, 
the  practical  value  of  Locke's  work  would  have  re- 
mained about  the  same.  The  change  would  have  been 
in  the  direction  of  increasing,  rather  than  diminishing, 
the  immediate  effect  of  the  work.  Locke's  troubles  all 
arose  from  "  the  new  way  of  thinking  by  ideas,"  which 
gave  so  good  a  basis  for  theism.  But  this  new  way  of 
thinking  could  scarcely  have  been  avoided.  The  natural 
curve  of  his  thought  is  obscured  by  the  usual  interpre- 
tation of  his  system,  which  makes  him  start  as  a  full- 
fledged  introspective  philosopher  with  a  problem  and  a 
method.  If  this  interpretation  is  correct,  it  is  hard  to 
connect  Locke's  practical  work  with  his  theoretical  stand- 
point. The  connection  is  plain,  however,  if  the  intro- 
spective method  is  thought  of  as  representing  not  his 
starting-point,  but  the  goal  which,  after  much  difficulty, 
he  had  attained. 

Readers  of  Locke  are  misled  by  assuming  that  his  pri- 
mary interest  is  an  examination  of  his  own  subjective 
states.  Locke  had  no  qualms  of  conscience.  He  was 
troubled  neither  by  enthusiasm  nor  by  superstition. 
His  note-books  contain  no  indication  of  those  internal 
struggles  which  are  so  frequently  found  in  other  writers, 
and  which  were  especially  common  and  severe  in  his  time. 
His  troubles  arose  from  other  people's  attacks  on  him, 
and  from  the  qualms  of  conscience  that  disturbed  the 
peace  of  his  friends.  The  proper  analysis  of  these  diffi- 
culties compelled  him  to  study  not  his  own  mental  states, 


166  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

but  those  of  other  persons  in  whom  the  phenomena  in 
question  were  more  pronounced. 

Locke,  therefore,  should  be  interpreted  as  if  he  were 
talking  to  a  troubled  friend  and  putting  himself  in  his 
friend's  place.  It  is  the  art  of  making  persons  inter- 
pret the  phenomena  of  their  own  conscience  in  the  same 
way  that  Locke  himself  interprets  them,  that  makes  him  a 
persuasive  reasoner.  The  method  is  not  introspective, 
but  altrospective.  We  look  out  when  we  investigate 
other  people's  minds  ;  we  look  in  when  we  investigate 
our  own.  In  altrospection  we  have  as  material  the 
external  things  that  impress  themselves  on  the  persons 
we  observe,  and  we  have  their  actions,  words,  or  looks, 
which  indicate  the  effects  of  the  external  impressions 
and  the  resulting  mental  activity.  The  impressions  are 
the  causes,  and  the  expressions  (using  this  term  in  its 
broadest  sense  as  a  correlative  of  impressions)  are  the 
effects.  If  we  make  use  of  one  of  Locke's  primary  axioms 
that  the  mind  is  a  blank,  —  a  tabula  rasa,  —  then  the  ex- 
pressions should  just  equal  the  impressions.  In  fact,  if 
we  adopt  a  mechanical  view  of  the  mind,  they  must  be 
exactly  equal.  Locke,  however,  does  not  draw  this  con- 
clusion, for  his  interest  is  in  the  phenomena  that  spring 
from  a  surplus  of  expression.  It  is  clear  to  observers 
that  the  sum  of  men's  expressions  exceed  the  sum  of  their 
impressions.  Locke  believes  this  surplus  of  expression 
to  be  bad,  and  holds  that  a  rational  man  makes  his  ex- 
pressions tally  with  his  impressions.  The  cause  of  this 
surplus  of  expression  is,  therefore,  either  superstition  or 
enthusiasm.  Cut  off  all  this  excess,  make  words  (which 
are  to  him  the  signs  of  ideas)  correspond  to  sense  im- 
pressions, and  all  superstition  and  enthusiasm  will  dis- 
appear. Thus  Locke  gets  a  new  and  better  method  of 
attack  on  his  old  enemies,  and  acquires  a  firm  basis  for  the 
second  book  of  his  Essay. 

We  are  the  more  prone  to  take  a  wrong  view  of  Locke's 


THE   CALVINISTS  167 

starting-point  because  it  is  hard  for  us  to  realize  how 
crude  were  the  notions  about  the  mind  then  prevailing. 
Even  the  best  thinkers  assumed  that  objects  impressed 
themselves  directly  on  the  mind,  and  Locke  talks  as 
though  insensible  particles  pass  from  objects  to  the  eyes 
and  thence  to  the  brain,  thus  bringing  the  mind  into 
direct  contact  with  the  things  creating  its  impressions. 
This  naive  realism  makes  the  object  present  to  the  ob- 
server identical  with  the  impression  felt  by  the  recipient 
of  the  sensation.  The  impression  thus  becomes  the  exter- 
nal exciting  object  rather  than  the  internal  feeling  itself. 
If  "the  archetypes  of  ideas  really  exist  in  the  bodies 
themselves,"  the  observer  has  the  same  data  that  the 
recipient  of  the  sensation  has,  and  can  judge  as  well  of 
the  correspondence  of  the  impression  with  the  expression. 
If  this  seems  too  crude  a  doctrine  for  so  great  a  thinker, 
it  should  be  remembered  that  we  have  to  do  not  with  a 
nineteenth-century  philosopher,  but  with  a  man  who  in 
his  natural  philosophy  could  gravely  explain  how  stones 
grow.  Locke  is  in  a  state  of  transition  from  an  eco- 
nomic standpoint,  and  he  has  no  other  knowledge  of  the 
mind  than  was  common  to  other  observers.  He  was  not 
even  well  read  in  the  philosophy  of  the  day.  What  little 
of  science  he  knew  was  confined  to  medicine,  and  this 
knowledge  tended  to  confirm  those  altrospective  habits  of 
thought  which  are  of  use  in  social  studies.  A  physician 
does  not  feel  the  pain  of  his  patient,  but  sees  only  certain 
objective  causes  that  create  internal  feelings,  and  the 
outer  manifestations  of  these  feelings  in  words,  looks,  or 
gestures.  The  premises  of  a  physician  are  completely 
altrospective,  and  in  so  far  as  they  influenced  Locke,  they 
strengthened  the  habits  of  thought  he  had  already  acquired. 
Although  I  have  not  used  Locke's  own  language  in  what 
I  have  said  of  his  original  doctrine,  yet  what  I  have  said 
of  it  harmonizes  with  the  opening  statements  in  his  "  com- 
monplace book."    In  this  well-known  passage,  Locke  shows 


168  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

no  recognition  of  reflection  as  a  source  of  ideas,  nor  has  he 
any  suspicion  of  the  inadequacy  of  altrospective  methods. 
All  ideas  are  held  to  be  derived  from  the  senses,  and  the 
mind  to  be  a  tabula  rasa.  The  ready  inference  from  these 
premises  is  that  the  expressions  should  correspond  to  the 
impressions,  or  to  use  Locke's  more  concrete  terms,  words 
which  are  the  "  signs  of  ideas,"  should  correspond  to  sen- 
sations. He  thus  gets  a  short,  easy  way  of  ruling  out  his 
opponents,  which  is  as  concise  and  forcible  as  Hume's 
famous  argument  about  miracles.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
when  he  sat  down  to  write  out  his  views  on  the  subject 
which  he  confesses  he  had  never  before  considered,  he 
expected  to  put  all  he  wanted  to  say  on  one  sheet  of 
paper.  Indeed,  the  whole  doctrine  can  be  put  on  a  sheet 
of  paper,  and  if  Locke  had  held  consistently  to  the  prem- 
ises from  which  he  started,  a  book  would  have  been  use- 
less. New  discoveries,  however,  as  he  tells  us,  led  him 
on  until  at  length  he  had  a  book  on  his  hands. 

When  we  understand  his  original  position,  it  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  see  what  these  "new  discoveries"  were.  They 
were  due  not  to  a  development  of  his  first  doctrine,  but  to 
a  modification  of  it  due  to  his  passing  over  from  an  altro- 
spective to  an  introspective  standpoint.  When  he  de- 
cides that  any  surplus  of  expression  is  either  superstition 
or  enthusiasm  and  hence  bad,  he  has  cut  himself  off  from 
any  further  development  on  an  altrospective  basis.  The 
doctrine  can  be  questioned  only  in  two  ways,  either  by 
finding  what  justification  people  give  for  this  excess  of 
expression,  or  by  the  observer  of  others  turning  from  them 
to  himself  and  seeing  whether  there  is  any  cause  in  his 
own  mind  for  an  excess  of  expression. 

To  both  these  methods  Locke  resorted,  and  with  differ- 
ent results.  When  enthusiasts  were  asked  what  other 
source  of  ideas  they  had  than  their  sense  impressions, 
they  replied  that  they  had  an  "  inner  light,"  a  direct  reve- 
lation from  above,  which   in  no  way  depended   on   the 


THE  CALVINISTS  169 

senses.  Put  this  statement  in  more  abstract  language, 
and  we  have  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas.  It  is  a  mistake 
to  suppose  that  Locke  had  the  doctrines  of  Descartes  or 
other  abstract  thinkers  in  mind  when  he  denounced  innate 
ideas.  He  was  thinking  of  his  old  enemies,  the  enthusi- 
asts, and  he  wanted  to  obviate  the  difficulties  that  their 
claims  of  an  "inner  light"  put  in  his  way.  It  is,  of 
course,  true  that  Locke's  statement  pitted  him  against 
the  philosophers  as  well  as  the  enthusiasts,  but  his  oppo- 
sition to  the  former  was  purely  accidental,  and  became 
important  only  in  later  times,  when  his  ideas  were  con- 
trasted with  more  advanced  views.  In  the  first  book  of 
the  Essay  he  had  only  practical  problems  in  mind,  and  he 
was  content  when  he  had  met  the  objections  raised  by  the 
advocates  of  an  "inner  light."  His  reasoning  remained 
purely  altrospective ;  this  would  not  have  been  the  case 
if  he  had  had  in  mind  those  abstract  concepts  which  intro- 
spective philosophers  claim  to  find  in  their  minds. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  the  objections  of  his  opponents 
that  caused  Locke  to  modify  his  position.  He  would  have 
been  only  too  glad  to  have  destroyed  every  support  on 
which  their  opinions  and  beliefs  rested.  The  outcome 
was  different,  however,  when  Locke  turned  to  his  own 
mind  for  a  confirmation  of  his  views,  for  there  he  found  a 
surplus  of  expression,  due  to  neither  superstition  nor 
enthusiasm.  When  he  began  to  classify  and  arrange  his 
ideas  in  groups,  and  to  compare  them  with  the  original 
sensations,  he  discovered  a  large  class  of  ideas  that  did 
not  come  from  the  outer  world,  but  from  a  source  wholly 
within  each  man,  which  he  called  an  "internal  sense." 
The  mind  by  reflecting  on  its  own  operations  got  ideas 
which  had  "nothing  to  do  with  external  objects."  The 
recognition  of  this  fact  caused  Locke  to  modify  his  origi- 
nal doctrine,  and  to  admit  reflection  as  a  source  of  ideas. 
Thus  Locke  found  a  legitimate  origin  for  the  surplus  of 
expression  which  he  thought  at  first  to  be  wholly  bad. 


170  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

The  second  book  of  the  Es»ay  was  a  development  of 
this  thought,  and  the  deeper  he  went  into  the  discussion 
the  more  introspective  he  became.  He  took  his  last  step 
toward  introspection  when  he  distinguished  between  the 
primary  and  the  secondary  qualities  of  objects,  the  latter 
being  wholly  in  the  mind,  and,  like  the  ideas  of  reflection, 
being  created  by  its  operations.  Thus  in  the  end  only  the 
primary  qualities  remain  as  sensations  coming  unchanged 
from  the  outer  world.  In  regard  to  them  he  never  aban- 
doned his  original  altrospective  habits  of  thought.  We 
must  wait  for  Berkeley  to  complete  the  work  Locke  began, 
and  to  give  to  the  world  a  consistent  system  based  wholly 
on  introspective  methods. 

The  further  development  of  Locke's  philosophy  has  no 
present  interest.  We  must  now  see  what  was  its  influence 
on  the  practical  problems  for  which  he  sought  a  solution. 
Two  principles  had  been  clearly  enunciated,  which  slowly 
but  surely  changed  men's  ways  of  thinking,  and  gave  them 
the  means  of  testing  and  measuring  those  impulses  that 
encourage  partisanship.  By  the  principle  of  correspond- 
ence men  could  measure  the  excess  of  expression  over 
impression,  and  thus  know  wherein  their  activities  and 
expressions  were  greater  or  more  impulsive  than  the  facts 
demanded.  The  principle  of  indifference  separated  from 
each  doctrine  or  impulse  all  disconnected  facts  that  had 
been  erroneously  joined  to  it.  A  third  category — the 
indifferent  —  is  thus  created,  into  which  all  things  go 
that  are  neither  good  nor  bad.  With  these  principles 
recognized,  Locke  hoped  that  "  truth  and  quiet "  could  be 
obtained  and  the  evils  of  enthusiasm  remedied.  It  cer- 
tainly looked  as  if  the  basis  of  any  visual  overgrowth  had 
been  destroyed.  Henceforth  words  — the  signs  of  ideas 
—  must  tally  with  sense  impressions  and  be  unaffected  by 
the  operations  of  the  mind. 

This  view,  however,  has  not  been  verified  by  subsequent 


THE   CALVINISTS  171 

progress.  The  simple  analyses  of  Locke  were  soon  found 
to  be  defective.  The  discovery  of  a  new  group  of  facts 
forced  the  development  of  thought  into  an  unexpected 
channel.  I  do  not  wish  to  make  the  mistake  of  assuming 
that  the  new  principle  was  clearly  seen  by  Locke  or  by 
his  immediate  successors.  One  of  the  great  difficulties  in 
interpreting  the  thought  movement  of  this  period  is  that 
while  they  knew  an  obstacle  had  been  encountered,  neither 
the  followers  nor  the  opponents  of  Locke  knew  what  or 
where  it  was.  We  can,  however,  separate  the  principle 
involved  from  the  many  incidental  matters  about  which 
discussion  turned,  and  thus  reach  the  heart  of  the  con- 
troversy with  an  ease  that  was  then  impossible. 

The  new  principle  that  gradually  emerges  is  the  associa- 
tion of  ideas.  According  to  Locke's  analysis  the  simple 
ideas  of  the  mind  stand  apart  from  one  another,  and  all 
complex  ideas  are  formed  by  combining  these  ideas  as  a 
chemist  combines  elements.  The  principle  of  indifference 
assumes  that  these  ideas  can  readily  enter  into  any  combina- 
tion, and  that  a  thinker  who  has  them  in  given  combinations 
can  separate  them  and  put  them  into  other  combinations 
as  readily  as  a  chemist  combines  and  dissolves  material 
bodies.  This  method,  however,  of  joining  and  dissolving 
mental  concepts  fails.  Men  cannot  unite  and  divide  ideas 
at  pleasure.  They  come  up  in  groups  and  depart  together. 
Modern  psychologists,  recognizing  a  fact  outside  of  Locke's 
calculations,  speak  of  inseparable  associations.  In  the  end 
he  dimly  saw  the  principle  involved,  but  naturally  con- 
demned it  because  it  rendered  his  analysis  valueless.  He 
recognized  in  the  association  of  ideas  the  basis  upon  which 
enthusiasm  and  superstition  rest,  and  by  calling  attention 
to  it  hoped  to  get  reasonable  men  to  guard  themselves 
against  these  weaknesses  of  human  nature.  When  subse- 
quent writers  emphasized  the  good  side  of  this  principle 
its  importance  was  readily  appreciated. 

In  referring  to  the  principle  that  associations  of  ideas 


172  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

are  inseparable,  I  wish  to  separate  the  facts  upon  which  it 
is  based  from  the  philosophy  with  which  it  is  joined.  It 
is  one  thing  to  state  what  the  facts  are ;  it  is  quite  another 
to  show  why  they  are  so.  To  separate  the  two  is  the  more 
important  in  this  case,  because  the  facts  are  obtained  by 
altrospection  while  the  theory  is  introspective.  It  is  cus- 
tomary to  speak  of  the  association  of  ideas  as  an  introspec- 
tive doctrine  born  of  a  simple  inspection  of  the  contents  of 
consciousness,  yet  it  is  hard  to  see  how  pure  introspective 
evidence  can  prove  it.  Such  evidence  could  show  that 
given  ideas  occurred  together  on  particular  occasions,  but 
this  is  far  from  showing  that  they  are  inseparable.  The 
writers  using  this  principle  evidently  obtained  their  evi- 
dence in  support  of  it  by  observing  other  persons,  and  not 
by  inspecting  the  operations  of  their  own  minds.  The  first 
interest  of  this  school  of  psychologists  lay  in  social  matters, 
and  they  were  better  judges  of  other  people's  motives  and 
actions  than  of  their  own.  Beginning  with  studies  plainly 
altrospective,  gradually  by  the  force  of  their  own  develop- 
ment they  slipped  over  to  an  introspective  standpoint, 
carrying  with  them  principles  that  had  an  altrospective 
origin ;  yet  they  talked  of  these  principles  and  argued 
from  them  as  if  they  were  introspective.  Good  observa- 
tions are  thus  mixed  with  crude  theorizing,  and  the  reader 
is  deceived  as  to  the  real  origin  of  the  doctrines  and  as  to 
the  evidence  on  which  they  rest. 

This  principle  of  the  association  of  ideas  renders  Locke's 
analysis  worthless  as  soon  as  the  latter  is  applied  to  social 
concepts.  If  his  interest  had  been  in  simple  combinations 
of  colour,  taste,  or  sound,  the  explanation  might  have  been 
satisfactory.  But  his  real  interest  was  in  the  higher 
ideals  of  the  race,  and  these  resisted  his  efforts  to  decom- 
pose them.  It  was  not  outside  criticism,  for  example, 
that  made  him  rewrite  so  often  the  chapter  on  "Power." 
The  trouble  lay  in  his  own  mental  associations.  These 
made  it  impossible  for  him  to  see  in  the  elements  into 


THE   CALVINISTS  173 

which  he  analyzed  the  concept  of  power  the  same  vivid 
reality  for  which  the  concept  itself  stood.  He  wanted  to 
put  the  abstract  concept  of  power  in  the  same  relation  to 
the  world  of  effects  as  that  held  by  the  concept  of  God. 
Try  as  he  would,  he  could  not  make  the  two  correspond. 

The  same  difficulty  faces  every  one  who  attempts  to 
analyze  a  race  ideal ;  it  doubtless  has  constituent  elements 
and  an  origin,  but  its  present  reality  differs  so  much 
from  the  elements  in  isolation  that  no  substitution  of 
them  for  the  ideal  itself  is  possible.  A  race  ideal  dif- 
fers from  its  elements  or  from  an  abstract  concept  by 
having  a  motor  reaction  united  with  it.  We  recognize 
the  ideal  not  by  its  sensory  qualities,  but  by  the  activity 
it  excites.  Neither  the  elements  nor  the  abstract  concept 
can  arouse  a  motor  response.  Although  from  a  purely 
sensory  standpoint  they  appear  to  be  alike,  they  do  not 
affect  the  mind  in  the  same  way.  No  one,  therefore, 
would  think  them  to  be  the  same  unless  he  lacked  the 
race  ideal  himself,  and  judged  it  solely  by  the  sensory 
manifestations  of  those  who  have  it.  Locke,  however, 
did  not  lack  race  ideals.  He  was  doing  much  to  create 
a  class  of  men  who  did  lack  them,  but  his  own  concept  of 
the  race  ideals  was  too  vivid  for  him  to  be  content  with 
a  purely  sensory  description  of  them.  Therefore,  while 
he  tested  them  by  his  new  method,  he  stopped  short  of 
destroying  them. 

I  have  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  writers  do  not 
state  the  proofs  of  their  doctrines  in  the  same  way  they 
were  discovered.  Current  beliefs  and  prejudices  influence 
men  as  soon  as  they  begin  to  write.  Locke  talks  as  if  he 
were  a  chemist  analyzing  and  combining  ideas  in  a  physical 
laboratory.  To  use  a  more  exact  analogy,  he  should  be 
called  a  distiller  rather  than  a  chemist.  A  distiller  does 
not  unite  certain  simple  elements  to  make  liquors,  but 
permits  nature  to  combine  these  elements  in  the  form  of 
fruit,  and  from  the  ripened  fruit  extracts  certain  com- 


174  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

pounds.  The  distilled  liquor  is  as  different  from  its  ele- 
ments as  it  is  from  the  fruit  out  of  which  it  was  taken. 
The  concrete  form  of  the  fruit  is  gone,  and  with  it  much 
of  the  substance,  but  its  essence  is  still  there.  Its  effects 
are  brought  out  more  sharply  by  the  change  and  its  stimu- 
lating power  is  much  greater.  Locke  subjected  the  race 
ideals  to  an  analogous  process.  They  were  imbedded  in  a 
mass  of  historical  facts,  customs,  and  ceremonies,  which 
were  doubtless  necessary  to  their  origin,  but  which  had 
grown  so  thick  about  them  as  to  obscure  them.  The  race 
ideals  resisted  decomposition  because  they  were  groups  of 
indissoluble  ideas.  The  historical  facts,  customs,  and  cere- 
monies, however,  yielded  to  Locke's  method,  and  became 
a  mass  of  isolated  data  which  could  be  tested  by  their  cor- 
respondence with  sense  impressions.  The  only  change  that 
could  be  made  in  the  race  ideals  was  to  isolate  them.  The 
deistic  controversy,  for  example,  was  due  to  an  attempt 
not  to  degrade  the  Christ-ideal,  but  to  separate  it  from 
the  God-ideal.  Those  who  could  not  hold  the  two  ideals 
apart  took  one  side  of  the  controversy,  while  on  the 
other  side  were  those  who  separated  them,  and  believed 
them  to  have  different  origins.  The  latter  were  enlarg- 
ing Locke's  principle  of  indifference  by  carrying  it  into  a 
new  field. 

A  good  illustration  of  how  Locke's  method  worked  in 
practice  is  to  be  found  in  his  book  on  the  Reasonableness 
of  Christianity.  He  read  the  four  Gospels  without  the 
aid  of  notes  or  comments,  and  became  convinced  that  the 
one  essential  doctrine  is  a  belief  in  Christ.  He  thus  ob- 
tained a  clearer  concept  of  Christ's  mission  than  if  the 
details  were  retained.  The  opponents  of  Locke  could 
not  bring  themselves  to  this  view.  All  the  doctrines  of 
the  Bible  were  indissolubly  associated  in  their  miuds,  and 
if  one  of  them  was  dropped  out  of  sight  they  all  went. 
Edwards,  Locke's  chief  opponent,  lays  great  stress  on  this 
unity  of  all  Scriptural  doctrine.      The  fall  of  man,  for 


THE  CALVINISTS  175 

example,  is  to  him  an  essential  belief  without  which  the 
mission  of  Christ  would  have  no  meaning.  Locke  did  not 
deny  the  fall  of  man  or  other  doctrines,  but  he  did  desire 
to  separate  them,  to  clarify  their  meaning,  and  to  test 
them  rationally.  This  kind  of  analysis  many  people  could 
not  endure.  They  resented  the  destruction  of  their  con- 
crete pictures,  and  refused  to  subordinate  familiar  doc- 
trines in  the  way  that  Locke's  method  demanded.  A  long 
controversy  followed,  with  little  immediate  result,  because 
neither  party  saw  clearly  the  real  issue  involved.  Had 
Locke  seen  the  importance  of  the  association  of  ideas  and 
modified  his  method  of  analysis  accordingly,  he  could  have 
expressed  his  thought  so  as  to  avoid  opposition.  But  his 
shortcomings  in  this  respect  strengthened  the  cause  of  his 
opponents,  and  forced  his  followers  into  bolder  positions 
than  would  otherwise  have  been  necessary.  Locke  opened 
the  road  to  the  deistic  controversy,  but  did  not  follow  it 
far  enough  to  see  where  it  would  lead. 

It  is  usual  to  regard  the  position  of  the  deists  as  a 
stage  in  the  development  of  religious  thought  reaching 
from  Locke  to  modern  Unitarianism.  From  one  point 
of  view  this  interpretation  is  correct,  although  often 
far  fetched.  If  we  follow  the  development  of  abstract 
thought  subsequent  to  Locke,  the  contributions  of  the 
deists  cannot  be  overlooked.  But  it  is  more  important 
to  look  on  the  practical  side  of  Locke's  work  and  see 
how  the  deists  are  connected  with  it.  Viewed  in  this 
way,  they  make  a  stage  in  religious  development  that 
begins  with  Locke  and  ends  with  Wesley.  Both  these 
men  emphasized  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  without 
the  aid  of  notes  or  commentaries.  This  was  also  the 
attitude  of  the  deists,  who,  not  being  scholars,  were 
forced  to  take  this  stand.  Reliance  on  the  English  text 
and  a  plain,  common-sense  interpretation  of  difficult 
passages  gave  them  much  of  their  power,  and  saved  them 


176  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

from  the  tendency  of  learned  men  to  emphasize  history 
and  tradition  more  than  gospel  truths. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  deists  meant  to 
attack  the  truth  of  Christianity  or  the  divinity  of  Christ. 
Some  of  the  titles  of  their  books  have  this  appearance 
because  they  used  the  word  Christianity  in  a  broader 
sense  than  is  now  customary.  Christianity  not  Myste- 
rious and  Christianity  as  old  as  Creation  look  sus- 
picious, but  in  the  sub-title  of  the  first,  John  Toland 
claimed  to  show  that  "there  is  nothing  in  the  Gospel 
contrary  to  reason";  and  in  the  second,  Matthew  Tindal 
asserted  that  "  the  Gospel  is  merely  a  republication  of  the 
religion  of  nature."  To  bring  out  the  real  meaning  of 
these  titles,  "  revealed  religion  "  should  be  substituted  for 
"Christianity."  If  these  books  are  to  be  regarded  as 
attacks  on  religion,  they  are  attacks  on  God  and  not 
on  Christ,  for  they  reject  the  old  concept  of  God,  but 
make  no  attempt  to  alter  the  concept  of  Christ.  The 
sole  topic  is  the  relation  of  natural  to  revealed  religion. 
Do  they  have  the  same  end,  and  are  their  precepts  the 
same?  If  so,  revealed  religion  and  the  concept  of  God 
must  be  stripped  of  much  of  their  historical  and  tradi- 
tional attachments.  Natural  religion  is  simple,  plain, 
and  perfect.  To  tally  with  it,  revealed  religion  can 
have  no  mysteries,  nor  can  God's  conduct  ever  be  so 
questionable  as  to  demand  explanation  or  defence. 

The  premises  of  this  position  were  derived  from  Locke's 
principle  of  correspondence,  according  to  which  all  excess 
of  expression  over  impression  should  be  eliminated,  and 
from  the  principle  of  indifference,  according  to  which 
reason  was  the  only  rule  in  matters  relating  to  sense 
impressions.  But  in  the  application  of  these  principles, 
he  had  only  the  enthusiasts  in  mind.  The  twin  evil  of 
superstition  he  seems  to  have  thought  of  only  in  con- 
nection with  the  Catholic  Church ;  and  in  his  day  con- 
troversies with  it  were  almost  lost  sight  of  in  the  more 


THE  CALVINISTS  177 

urgent  evils  of  enthusiasm.  In  the  next  generation  the 
emphasis  is  reversed.  The  Puritans  were  forgotten, 
while  the  dogmatic,  arrogant  actions  of  the  Established 
Church  became  a  pressing  evil.  Locke  could  not  forget 
the  controversies  of  his  youth,  but  his  followers  quickly 
saw  that  superstition,  and  not  enthusiasm,  was  the  real 
foe  of  reason.  They  used,  therefore,  the  edge  of  the 
sword  that  Locke  had  sharpened  but  had  not  wielded. 
It  cut  sharply  and  deeply,  making  important  changes 
in  religious  thought. 

The  Protestant  Reformation  altered  men's  notions  of 
religion  mainly  in  regard  to  the  New  Testament.  The 
reformers  demanded  a  return  to  the  primitive  Chris- 
tianity of  the  first  centuries,  and  a  destruction  of  all 
the  later  myths  and  traditions.  As  a  step  to  this  end, 
they  destroyed  all  pictures  of  Christ  and  the  Apostles, 
and  degraded  the  Virgin  Mary  and  the  saints  from  their 
lofty  position.  This  movement  tended  to  elevate  the 
ideal  of  Christ  and  to  give  it  a  unique  position,  by 
separating  it  from  the  superstitious  observances  sanc- 
tioned by  custom  and  tradition.  But,  while  this  change 
was  going  on,  no  corresponding  alteration  took  place  in 
the  concept  of  God.  The  Protestants,  especially  the  Puri- 
tans, had  primitive  notions  of  God  and  his  activity.  By 
emphasizing  the  Old  Testament  and  following  it  liter- 
ally, men  were  led  to  suppose  that  God  was  continually 
interfering  in  their  affairs,  and  that  famines,  plagues, 
wars,  and  other  evils  were  the  result  of  a  subversion  of 
the  laws  of  nature.  God's  hand  was  seen  in  every  tri- 
fling circumstance,  and  this  activity  was  so  arbitrary 
that  God's  actions  could  not  be  accounted  for  rationally. 
Religious  instructors  emphasized  the  mysteries  of  religion 
because  there  seemed  to  be  no  other  way  of  accounting 
for  the  multitude  of  disasters  to  which  the  human  race 
was  subjected. 

Besides    these    crude   notions   of    divine   interference, 


178  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

there  was  a  widespread  opinion  that  all  religious  and 
civil  institutions,  customs,  and  ceremonies  were  of  di- 
vine origin.  Even  trivial  matters  of  ritual  were  made 
sacred  and  given  as  much  emphasis  as  the  essentials 
of  religion.  Locke  and  the  latitudinarian  churchmen 
endeavoured  to  make  church  government  and  ceremonies 
matters  of  indifference,  but  the  strong  reaction  after  the 
Restoration  carried  everything  before  it,  and  reinstated 
the  primitive  notions.  The  divine  right  of  kings,  the 
passive  obedience  of  subjects,  the  supremacy  of  the 
Established  Church,  and  all  other  Tory  doctrines  had 
their  boldest  advocacy  during  this  period.  It  is  true 
that  there  was  no  real  persecution,  and  that  the  oppo- 
nents of  the  established  order  were  in  little  danger  of 
life  or  liberty,  yet  in  a  thousand  irritating  ways  the 
arrogant  majority  made  its  power  felt.  Whoever  de- 
parted from  accepted  views  became  a  social  outcast, 
suffering  all  the  ignominy  that  the  servile  spokesman 
of  public  opinion  could  inflict. 

It  was  this  practical  condition  that  provoked  the  deistic 
controversy.  The  deists,  to  maintain  their  position  and 
the  right  to  free  thought,  had  to  attack  the  prevailing 
concept  of  God,  and  sweep  away  the  crude  notions  of  His 
continual  interference  in  the  affairs  of  men.  This  meant 
also  to  deny  that  God  is  a  God  of  wrath,  or  that  he  ever 
delegates  His  power  to  any  one.  Reason  was  the  only 
standard  they  could  accept.  Even  in  the  days  of  Hobbes 
it  had  been  asserted  that  Christ  had  not  given  any  power 
to  His  followers.  A  candid  interpretation  of  the  Gospels 
favours  this  contention,  but  even  Hobbes  had  not  denied 
that  God  delegated  His  power  to  human  rulers.  The 
statements  of  the  Old  Testament  were  held  to  be  too 
plain  and  abundant  to  leave  the  matter  in  doubt. 

A  more  thorough-going  criticism  of  the  Old  Testament 
is  necessary  to  the  denial  of  God's  interference  in  govern- 
ment and  ceremony  than  in  the  case  of  Christ  and  the 


THE   CALVINISTS  179 

New  Testament.  The  deists  were  compelled  to  put  the 
evidence  of  reason  and  natural  religion  above  that  of 
revelation,  and  to  assert  boldly  that  the  latter  could  not 
add  anything  to  natural  religion,  and  that  any  assumed 
opposition  of  the  two  would  prove  that  the  Scriptures 
were  wrong.  Their  main  complaint  was  that  in  attribut- 
ing certain  motives  to  God  we  "  clothed  Him  with  our 
own  infirmities."  All  the  mysteries  of  religion  grow  out 
of  the  assumption  that  God  interferes  in  the  government  of 
the  world.  By  putting  government,  ceremony,  and  worship 
on  a  natural  basis,  the  concept  of  God  is  stripped  of  its 
dross,  and  natural  and  revealed  religion  are  brought  into 
harmony.  The  only  end  that  God  could  have  in  inter- 
fering in  the  affairs  of  men  is  their  good.  It  can,  there- 
fore, be  inferred  that  any  form  of  government  or  worship 
that  diminishes  the  happiness  of  men  is  not  of  divine 
origin. 

These  doctrines  affect  the  concept  of  God  only  by 
making  it  stand  out  more  clearly.  But  they  have  also 
important  practical  effects.  Famines,  diseases,  wars,  and 
other  human  ills  are  assumed  to  have  a  natural  origin. 
Natural  religion  has  no  place  for  such  evils,  and  revealed 
religion  is  defective  in  so  far  as  it  connects  them  in  any 
way  with  God's  activity,  since  He  interferes  in  the  affairs 
of  men  only  for  their  good.  All  evil,  therefore,  is  caused 
by  man,  or  is  due  to  unavoidable  conditions,  and  human 
happiness  is  the  only  test  that  can  justify  institutions  or 
ceremonies. 

Bold  and  heretical  as  these  doctrines  seem,  they  are  but 
a  natural  phase  of  religious  development.  Two  distinct 
methods  of  interpreting  the  Scriptures  are  possible.  If 
the  emphasis  is  placed  on  the  Old  Testament,  the  wrath 
of  God  becomes  the  central  doctrine  :  He  is  believed  to  be 
constantly  interfering  in  the  affairs  of  men  and  punishing 
them  for  their  shortcomings  ;  He  is  the  great  source  of 
fear,  and  safety  from  His  wrath  is  assured  only  by  the 


180  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

strict  observance  of  certain  ceremonies  and  ritual.  If  a 
God  of  wrath  and  ceremony  is  made  the  central  thought 
of  the  Bible,  and  it  is  desired  to  convince  men  that  God's 
wrath  is  still  active,  the  interest  in  the  New  Testament  is 
centred  mainly  in  the  fulfilment  of  the  prophecies  of  the  Old 
Testament.  It  is  assumed  that  if  God  has  been  so  careful 
to  fulfil  His  promise  in  the  past  He  will  be  equally  careful 
now,  and  hence  follows  the  certainty  that  the  wicked  will 
be  punished,  and  that  any  violation  of  ceremony  or  priestly 
prerogative  will  kindle  anew  the  divine  wrath.  The  main 
elements  of  such  a  religion  are  wrath  and  fear,  and  its 
object  is  to  develop  instincts  of  obedience  and  the  ob- 
servance of  religious  forms.  But  if  the  emphasis  is 
placed  on  the  life  of  Christ,  the  Old  Testament  is  im- 
portant mainly  for  its  predictions  of  His  coming.  In  this 
light  Paul  and  the  other  Apostles  regarded  the  Old 
Testament.  Its  story  is  condensed  until  little  remains 
but  the  prophecies.  This  view  of  the  Bible  reveals  a 
religion  of  love  and  hope,  which  stands  in  marked  con- 
trast to  the  religion  of  wrath  and  fear  that  the  other  view 
presents. 

When,  therefore,  Locke  began  the  new  way  of  reading 
the  Scriptures  and  boldly  put  the  four  Gospels  in  a 
position  of  supreme  importance,  he  was  starting  a  far 
greater  revolution  in  religious  thought  than  he  supposed. 
He  meant  merely  to  put  the  doings  and  sayings  of  Jesus 
above  the  doctrinal  portions  of  the  New  Testament.  The 
creeds  were  founded  mainly  on  the  Epistles,  and  Locke 
hoped  to  reduce  their  severity  by  subordinating  them  to 
the  Gospels.  But  the  same  method  carried  a  step  farther 
reduces  the  importance  of  the  Old  Testament  even  more 
than  it  does  the  Epistles.  The  prophets  expound  a  re- 
ligion of  love  and  hope  only  in  so  far  as  they  anticipate 
the  life  and  sayings  of  Jesus.  The  gospel  of  wrath  that 
they  so  often  preach  sinks  in  importance  when  the  gentler 
side  of   their  work  is  emphasized.     If   Locke's  analytic 


THE   CALVINISTS  181 

process  be  rigidly  carried  out,  the  many  details  of  the 
Old  Testament  will  be  lost  sight  of,  while  the  resulting 
essence  will  contain  nothing  but  what  bears  on  the  mission 
of  Christ  and  the  hope  it  brings  the  world. 

God,  from  the  old  point  of  view,  was  like  the  ruler  of  a 
province.  He  united  in  Himself  all  the  various  functions 
that  such  a  government  demands,  and  was  at  the  same 
time  not  only  ruler,  judge,  lawgiver,  and  jailer,  but  also 
an  interferer  in  natural  processes.  A  dozen  different 
concepts  were  thus  bound  up  together  and  more  or  less 
confused  with  one  another.  But  the  change  in  economic 
conditions  created  a  new  concept  of  God.  When  the 
highest  ideal  of  men  is  to  become  makers  and  producers, 
they  put  God  in  the  same  economic  category.  Just  as 
warriors  and  clansmen  think  of  God  as  a  warrior  and 
ruler,  it  is  also  natural  for  men  in  industrial  relations  to 
think  of  Him  as  a  creator.  This  new  concept  the  deists 
emphasized  so  strongly  that  other  concepts  of  God  sank 
into  insignificance,  and  were  finally  thrown  aside  as  de- 
rogatory to  the  new  ideal.  The  Christianity  of  the  New 
Testament  was  made  "  reasonable  "  by  the  elevation  of  the 
Christ-ideal  above  the  doctrines  of  the  Epistle,  while  the 
Old  Testament  was  made  "  reasonable "  by  thinking  of 
God  as  a  creator  instead  of  as  an  interferer  in  natural 
processes.  The  deists  thus  brought  the  concept  of  God 
into  harmony  with  the  new  emphasis  placed  upon  the 
Gospels.  And  the  old  notions  of  religion  were  changed, 
not  by  lowering  or  destroying  anything,  but  by  elevating 
to  a  supreme  position  ideals  that  had  grown  up  in  the 
new  industrial  world.  The  rational  process  did  not  re- 
duce men's  faith  in  God  or  Christ,  but  it  raised  certain 
concepts  of  them  so  high  above  others  that  the  lower  con- 
cepts were  regarded  as  unworthy  of  divine  beings.  Re- 
ligion was  thus  transformed  from  a  belief  in  concrete 
pictures,  ceremonies,  and  traditions  into  a  love  of  race 
ideals  too  lofty  and  too  severe  for  every-day  use.     It  is,  in 


182  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

fact,  a  strain  on  the  imagination  to  think  of  a  God  who 
could  create  the  world  and  then  become  so  indifferent  to 
it  as  to  abandon  it  to  its  own  devices. 

This  cold  concept  of  the  Deity,  by  which  he  is  farther 
removed  from  the  world  of  fact  than  the  remotest  star, 
could  not  have  had  much  influence  had  it  not  been  sup- 
plemented by  a  new  view  of  the  universe.  Fortunately, 
just  at  the  time  when  the  deists  were  pushing  God  back 
out  of  the  every-day  world,  Newton  was  working  out  a 
concept  of  the  universe  that  would  allow  a  distant  God 
still  to  be  effective.  Of  this  aid  to  their  theories  the 
deists  do  not  appear  to  have  been  aware.  If  they  had 
recognized  its  importance,  their  doctrines  would  have 
been  differently  developed,  and  their  errors  reduced. 
While  deism  had  a  great  immediate  effect,  a  century 
elapsed  before  the  law  of  gravitation  was  thoroughly 
understood,  and  its  importance  recognized,  a  fact  which 
made  religious  progress  one-sided  and  isolated  its  phe- 
nomena. Now  that  harmony  has  been  restored  we  can 
treat  the  work  of  Newton  and  the  deists  as  complemen- 
tary and  put  them  into  correct  relations  to  each  other. 

In  the  old  concept  of  nature,  space  was  thought  of  as 
chaos,  and  God  was  at  best  the  ruler  of  a  few  oases  in  a  vast 
desert  filled  with  disagreeable  obstacles.  The  universe 
was  thus  pictured  as  an  Arab  would  picture  his  desert 
home  —  a  few  pleasant  spots  in  isolation  among  vast  un- 
conquered  realms.  Milton's  picture  was  of  this  type.  He 
thought  of  movement  in  space  as  of  travelling  in  Sahara. 
Heaven,  earth,  and  hell,  which  are  the  only  spots  where 
law  has  force,  are  separated  by  a  dismal  journey  of  enor- 
mous extent  that  only  the  most  daring  would  undertake. 
It  was  impossible  to  picture  distance  except  by  visualiz- 
ing the  obstacles  a  traveller  would  meet.  Distant  things 
could  not  be  connected  except  by  a  series  of  concrete 
steps.  Even  heaven  was  closed  in  by  gates  to  guard 
against  the  terrors  of  uncontrolled  space.     All  this  was 


THE  CALVINISTS  183 

changed  by  the  law  of  gravitation.  Through  it,  bodies 
widely  separated  could  be  pictured  as  influencing  one 
another.  Empty  space  now  became  a  distinct  concept, 
which  drove  out  the  dread  and  even  the  thought  of  chaos. 
Our  present  concept  of  nature  is  chaos  reduced  to  law. 
The  universe  conceived  as  an  interesting  mechanism  be- 
comes an  object  of  admiration,  reflecting  more  credit  on 
its  creator  than  any  other  of  His  acts.  The  plan  of  crea- 
tion gets  a  deeper  meaning,  for  it  is  intelligible  how  a  God, 
distant  both  in  space  and  time,  can  nevertheless  exert  a 
controlling  influence  on  the  affairs  of  men.  A  God  who 
can,  at  the  beginning,  so  arrange  the  universe  that  His 
will  is  sure  of  realization  is  much  greater  in  men's  esti- 
mation than  one  who  must  always  interfere  and  patch  up 
the  defects  of  His  own  scheme. 

Modern  optimism  was  made  possible  by  Newton's  law, 
by  means  of  which  both  God  and  men  are  elevated  to  a 
higher  plane  than  old  concepts  permitted.  If  the  deists 
had  not  been  so  hopeful,  they  would  not  have  dared  to 
strip  the  concept  of  God  of  its  historical  attachments  or 
to  remove  Him  so  far  from  the  affairs  of  men.  Their 
confidence  in  human  nature  made  them  believe  men  so 
perfect  as  not  to  require  the  interference  of  God  in  their 
affairs.  But  the  God  they  so  carefully  removed  to  a  dis- 
tant throne  did  not  remain  there,  and  when  he  came  back 
he  had  lost  his  old  attributes  and  acquired  new  ones.  He 
disappeared  as  a  God  of  wrath  and  returned  as  a  God  of 
love. 

According  to  the  Puritan  view  men  changed  all  their 
attributes  when  they  passed  from  one  state  to  another. 
A  man  in  a  state  of  grace  was  entirely  different  from  what 
he  had  been  in  a  state  of  sin.  Even  more  radical  than 
this  change  is  the  difference  between  the  old  concept  of  a 
God  of  wrath  and  the  new  one  that  made  him  the  Father 
of  men.  The  old  God  seemed  to  think  only  of  revenge 
and  punishment.     He  visited  the  sins  of  fathers  on  their 


184  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

children,  if  no  other  victims  could  be  found.  When 
he  reappeared  in  a  new  garb  he  was  as  eager  to  bestow 
favours  as  he  had  been  before  to  punish.  Any  slight  sign 
of  repentance  brought  the  sinner  into  favour,  and  put 
within  his  grasp  all  the  means  of  improvement  that 
heaven  could  devise.  We  now  have  a  concept  of  God 
that  harmonizes  with  the  picture  of  Christ  given  in  the 
Gospels.  One  important  step  in  this  change  was  due  to 
Locke,  a  second  to  the  deists,  and  a  third  to  Newton  ;  but 
it  was  not  completed  until  Wesley  had  done  his  part. 
We  must,  therefore,  leave  this  subject  in  an  unsatisfactory 
state  until  the  influence  of  the  next  epoch  is  considered. 

Before  turning  to  this  new  field  it  may  be  well  to 
restate  the  changes  that  have  occurred.  Introspective 
analysis  has  encroached  on  the  old  concept  of  personality, 
forcing  people  to  think  of  their  ideals,  institutions,  and 
immediate  belongings  more  objectively.  The  self  is  now 
reduced  to  a  mere  point  connected  with  the  outside  world 
by  a  series  of  sense  perceptions.  Moralitj^  has  been  trans- 
formed by  the  principle  of  indifference ;  and  in  the  new 
field,  the  "adiaphorous,"  is  placed  everything  of  which 
reason  is  the  judge.  Subjective  analysis  has  failed  in  the 
case  of  those  inseparable  associations  we  call  race  ideals, 
which,  resisting  an  analysis  into  sense  impressions,  were 
yet  capable  of  a  distillation  that  freed  them  from  their 
historical  and  traditional  surroundings.  They  were  also 
isolated  from  one  another,  so  that  each  rested  on  its  own 
basis  and  was  brought  into  activity  by  its  own  motor 
reactions. 

The  earlier  type  of  men  may  be  thought  of  as  having 
but  one  motor  reaction  for  all  stimuli.  Every  motive  was 
so  bound  up  with  others  that  any  need  of  action  roused 
all  possible  motives  and  thus  brought  the  whole  man  into 
activity.  Men's  minds  could  not  act  in  parts ;  either  all 
was  active  or  all  was  passive.     The  isolation  of  race  ideals 


THE  CALVINISTS  185 

and  the  growing  field  of  indifference  altered  this  condi- 
tion. Religious  and  civil  ideas  then  acquired  distinct 
associations  with  separate  motor  responses.  Religion  itself 
was  at  least  partially  divided,  because  the  concepts  of  God 
and  the  Christ  were  put  on  distinct  bases,  and  aroused 
different  motor  reactions.  As  a  result  of  these  changes 
morality  also  obtained  an  independent  position.  It  was 
so  intimately  associated  with  the  new  monarch,  reason, 
that  its  ideas  were  pushed  forward  into  a  first  place ;  and 
for  a  time,  at  least,  it  looked  as  if  its  rule  would  become 
as  absolute  as  had  been  that  of  the  Puritan  conscience. 
But  the  older  ideals  were  too  thoroughly  imbedded  in 
English  character  to  allow  morality  such  supremacy.  So 
no  decisive  victory  was  gained ;  but  Englishmen  became 
definitely  separated  into  types,  whose  characters  were 
determined  by  their  dominant  race  ideals  and  the  motor  re- 
actions that  made  these  active  principles.  Before  the 
time  of  Locke  there  were  three  types  of  Englishmen — the 
Puritan,  the  dinger,  and  the  sensualist.  Locke's  analysis 
had  split  the  Puritan  party  into  two  parts.  One  section 
was  transformed  into  stalwarts,  who  placed  race  ideals 
above  reason  and  sense  impressions,  and  the  other  into 
mugwumps,  who  made  the  opposite  choice.  Although  the 
latter  class  are  called  rationalists,  they  have  no  more  right 
to  this  title  than  the  other  classes.  The  real  difference 
lay  not  in  the  reasoning  itself,  but  in  the  axioms  from 
which  men  reasoned ;  and  these  axioms  were  determined 
in  all  cases  not  by  a  rational  process,  but  by  the  relative 
clearness  of  the  different  race  ideals  and  the  strength  of 
the  motor  reactions.  The  physical  constitution  of  men 
and  their  relative  vigour  was  a  far  greater  factor  in  deter- 
mining their  class  than  were  their  reasoning  powers. 
The  reasoning  of  mugwumps  is  not  superior  to  other 
modes  of  reasoning,  but  is  simply  an  endeavour  to  make 
word  concepts  correspond  to  sense  impressions.  Setting 
bounds  to  the  vagaries  of  the  imagination,  it  keeps  men 


186  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

in  close  touch  with  the  practical  side  of  their  environ- 
ment. In  this  sense  of  the  term  Locke  was  the  first 
mugwump  and  a  typical  man  of  his  class. 

Physically  the  mugwump  presents  an  example  of  re- 
duced vitality.  He  puts  peace,  quiet,  and  comfort  before 
all  else,  because  he  cannot  stand  the  hardships  and  vigor- 
ous activity  that  pleased  the  older  type  of  Englishmen. 
The  first  cause  of  the  rise  of  this  class  was  the  prevalence 
of  consumption.  The  well-housed  were  its  victims,  and 
they  could  not  avoid  its  ravages  except  by  adopting  a 
life  of  comfort  and  moderation.  The  type  was  developed 
by  the  prevailing  notions  of  education  which  made  an 
active  life  distasteful  to  the  educated  class,  forcing  them 
to  enter  sedentary  occupations  where  they  were  protected 
from  the  evils  of  the  outer  world.  As  soon  as  Puritanism 
was  on  the  wane,  the  city  churches  offered  the  mugwump 
class  an  attractive  field.  They  became  favourites  wher- 
ever intellectuality  was  more  highly  esteemed  than  piety 
and  vigour.  But  the  places  for  which  they  were  best  fitted, 
and  in  which  they  did  the  greatest  service,  were  the  fields 
of  government  and  law.  Their  spirit  of  compromise  and 
their  intense  love  of  peace  and  security  made  them  excel- 
lent arbitrators  between  the  other  classes,  who  by  them- 
selves could  find  no  basis  of  union.  In  a  nation  where 
no  one  class  was  strong  enough  to  dominate,  compromise 
was  the  only  principle  of  action.  The  new  type  of  men, 
although  weak  numerically,  was  thus  able  to  rule  the 
others,  and  to  get  its  principles  accepted.  From  this 
time  the  English  race  knew  of  no  government  except 
expediency  and  compromise. 

The  separation  of  government  and  law  from  religion 
and  morality  is  of  importance  because  of  the  conversion  to 
new  uses  of  old  instincts  and  motor  reactions.  Thus  far 
the  religious  and  the  moral  motives  had  been  dominant  in 
the  race,  but  after  all  they  exhibited  a  practical  sort  of  re- 
ligion and  morality  whose  main  end  was  to  secure  peace 


THE   CALVINISTS  187 

and  order.  We  might  say,  therefore,  that  the  chief  mo- 
tives were  always  connected  with  government,  this  being 
in  form,  however,  religious  and  not  civil.  Certainly,  the 
influence  of  the  Church  lay  mainly  in  fields  that  we  should 
now  regard  as  civil,  and  to  the  Church  the  love  of  peace 
and  order  was  due.  When  government  and  religion  be- 
came distinct  objects  of  thought,  it  was  the  peculiarity  of 
English  development  that  the  old  motor  reactions  were 
appropriated  not  by  religion,  but  by  government  and  law. 
In  other  words,  instincts  due  to  the  supremacy  of  the 
Church  became  civil  instincts,  while  religion  and  morality 
were  forced  to  appropriate,  or  at  least  to  try  to  appro- 
priate, the  less  developed  motor  reactions  due  to  later 
economic  forces. 

At  first  sight  this  view  seems  strange,  but  it  will  bear 
investigation.  France  has  been  perfectly  stable  in  religion 
because  the  old  well-established  instincts  are  still  bound 
up  with  the  Church.  The  government  of  France,  how- 
ever, has  been  unstable  for  lack  of  these  early  instincts. 
The  French  have  been  trying  to  find  or  to  develop  new 
motor  responses  which  will  give  to  their  political  ideals  the 
same  stability  possessed  by  their  religious  ideals.  In  Eng- 
land, on  the  other  hand,  political  ideas  have  the  stability 
of  French  religious  ideas,  while  religion  and  morality  have 
to  face  difficulties  similar  to  those  which  have  confronted 
politics  in  France.  The  religious  and  moral  struggle  of 
the  eighteenth  century  in  England  was  the  result  of  this 
instability.  Every  one  felt  the  insecurity  of  the  reli- 
gious and  moral  ideals,  and  tried  to  obtain  for  them  a 
new  basis. 

This  unsettled  religious  condition  would  have  been 
impossible,  if  in  the  separation  of  government  and  religion 
the  latter  had  secured  the  effective  motor  reactions  that  in 
earlier  times  both  of  them  had  utilized.  The  development 
in  religion  and  morality  has  made  Englishmen  rational 
and  ideal  in  those  fields,  just  as  their  development  in 


188  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

politics  has  made  the  French  rational  and  ideal  in  that 
field.  In  each  instance  the  transformation  was  so  great 
that  the  race  lost  the  power  to  excite  the  old  motor  re- 
actions, and  was  forced,  therefore,  to  seek  new  and  more 
fitting  ones.  If  an  Englishman  wishes  to  know  how  a 
Catholic  feels,  he  has  only  to  examine  his  own  feelings 
when  he  is  aroused  in  politics.  He  then  acts  with  the 
same  mingling  of  stupidity,  obstinacy,  dislike  of  change 
and  love  of  security,  that  Catholics  often  show.  The  mo- 
tives and  motor  reactions  in  the  two  cases  are  the  same. 
The  feelings  relating  to  government  and  law  are  the 
most  instinctive  and  least  directed  by  reason  of  any  that 
an  Englishman  has,  and  in  these  fields  the  least  change  is 
possible. 

Since  the  time  of  Locke  there  has  been  practically  no 
development  of  political  thought.  The  only  serious  at- 
tempt to  rationalize  law  and  politics  was  made  by  Ben- 
tham,  and  it  resulted  in  failure.  There  is  really  nothing 
on  which  the  English  race  can  base  the  claim  they  so  often 
make,  that  they  have  a  peculiar  aptitude  for  the  develop- 
ment of  political  institutions.  They  have  been  too  conser- 
vative to  develop  institutional  life  beyond  the  needs  of  a 
primitive  society.  Peace  and  security  come  not  from 
Anglo-American  institutions,  but  from  the  instincts  in- 
culcated during  the  supremacy  of  the  Church,  the  favour- 
able economic  conditions,  and  that  spirit  of  compromise 
which  has  been  forced  on  the  race  by  the  presence  of 
opposing  types  of  men.  Given  these  instincts  and  con- 
ditions, almost  any  institutions  would  be  successful. 
Where  these  conditions  are  lacking,  the  failure  of  our 
institutions  is  lamentably  apparent,  and  the  inability  to 
remedy  them  even  more  obvious. 

This  political  conservatism  is  the  bad  side  of  the  other- 
wise good  results  which  came  from  the  appropriation  of 
the  older  motor  reactions  by  government  and  law.  The 
motor  responses  that  make  for  peace  and  security  can- 


THE  CALVINISTS  189 

not  be  aroused  except  by  the  concrete  causes  that  first 
created  them.  The  more  primitive  the  standpoint  and 
the  cruder  the  concepts  presented,  the  more  vigorous 
is  the  response  of  an  English  or  an  American  political 
audience.  A  new  principle  or  a  new  situation,  no  mat- 
ter how  important,  fails  to  attract  attention  or  to  receive 
consideration  if  it  requires  any  modification  of  old 
premises.  The  same  blind  conservatism  shows  itself  in 
other  fields.  We  have  a  dozen  forms  of  church  govern- 
ment, each  claiming  to  be  of  divine  origin.  I  know  of  no 
religious  body  that  has  altered  the  form  of  church  gov- 
ernment imposed  upon  it  by  the  accidents  of  its  origin. 
For  like  reasons,  social  organizations  of  all  kinds  are 
short-lived.  They  usually  appeal  to  a  class  and  contain 
a  dominant  element  which  does  not  feel  bound  by  the 
rules  of  compromise  that  are  effective  in  public  bodies. 
This  is  also  apparent  in  political  parties.  They  represent 
classes,  and  an  organized  class  always  has  dominant  ele- 
ments that  override  the  minorities  in  the  rudest  way. 
The  caucus  and  the  political  boss  are  illustrations  of 
how  institutionless  the  race  is  when  social  organizations 
are  formed  among  people  bound  together  by  similar  feel- 
ings from  which  they  are  not  likely  to  break  away.  Hap- 
pily for  the  race,  it  has  had  no  dominant  class  for  the  last 
two  centuries,  and  this  fact  has  enabled  it  to  prosper 
under  conditions  that  would  otherwise  have  demanded 
a  development  of  its  institutions. 

I  state  these  facts  not  from  a  desire  to  enter  the  domain 
of  political  theory,  but  to  excuse  the  absence  of  any  dis- 
cussion of  political  affairs  in  the  following  chapters. 
Where  conditions  are  so  firmly  established  as  to  pre- 
vent change,  there  can  be  no  development  of  thought. 
English  progress,  especially  in  the  eighteenth  century, 
is  as  divorced  from  political  life  as  if  the  nation  had 
been  paying  tribute  to  some  foreign  power.  It  mattered 
not  what  wars  or  policies  its  rulers  undertook,  so  long  as 


190  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

the  tax  rate  was  unaltered.  Every  one  regarded  govern- 
ment as  a  necessary  evil,  and  thought  the  less  he  had  of 
it  the  better.  This  attitude  by  itself  proves  that  the 
governing  class  was  divorced  from  the  nation  at  large, 
and  that  the  acts  of  the  former  are  of  no  consequence 
to  the  progress  of  the  latter. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE   MORALISTS 

While  in  the  seventeenth  century  English  develop- 
ment was  a  struggle  against  outside  influences,  in  the 
eighteenth  it  became  normal  and  proceeded  from  in- 
digenous causes.  The  Catholic  and  the  Puritan  were 
alike  in  that  they  impressed  upon  English  character  and 
civilization  traits  and  ideals  of  extraneous  origin.  The 
one  was  as  plainly  a  Roman  in  his  tendencies  as  the 
other  was  a  Hebrew.  Puritanism,  moreover,  affected 
most  the  foreign  emigrants,  who  settled  in  the  indus- 
trial centres,  and  those  associated  with  them.  It  domi- 
nated the  old  English  stock  rather  than  transformed  it, 
and  the  yoke  of  bondage  was  thrown  off  as  soon  as 
possible.  Protestantism,  which  was  a  reaction  against 
foreign  influences,  spent  its  force  when  the  several 
states  interested  secured  their  independence  and  cast 
out  the  doctrines  and  ideals  that  had  no  basis  in  their 
own  conditions.  The  eighteenth-century  man  was  an 
Englishman  rather  than  a  Protestant,  and  saw  the  world 
coloured  with  the  peculiarities  of  his  local  environment. 
A  reverse  movement  had  set  in,  and,  instead  of  resisting 
and  protesting  against  outside  influences,  he  was  now 
trying  to  impress  his  ideas  on  others.  Foreigners  came 
to  England  not  to  conquer  but  to  get  object-lessons. 

Catholicism  had  left  as  a  legacy  to  the  race  a  love  of 
order,  a  desire  for  security,  and  a  willingness  to  submit 
to  authority.  To  these  qualities  Protestantism  had  added 
toleration,  willingness  to  compromise,  love  of  liberty,  a 
demand  for  representation.    All  such  qualities  affected  the 

191 


192  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

public  relations  of  men  and  made  it  possible  to  attain 
the  peace  and  security  demanded  by  the  older  ideal. 
But  of  far  greater  importance  than  any  of  these  influ- 
ences was  the  new,  economic  ideal  of  comfort.  The 
other  characteristics  were,  in  fact,  but  concrete  expres- 
sions of  this  one  dominant  thought.  No  one  can  under- 
stand the  new  race  of  men  unless  he  knows  what  was 
meant  by  comfort.  In  earlier  times  pleasures  were  com- 
munal and  out  of  doors.  They  demanded  more  or  less 
activity ;  for  the  damp,  harsh  climate  of  England  made 
rest  and  repose  in  the  open  air  disagreeable  and  even 
dangerous  to  health.  When  Puritan  zeal  destroyed  com- 
munal life,  more  emphasis  was  thrown  on  the  family 
measures  which  could  be  enjoyed  indoors. 

The  key  to  English  progress  lies  in  the  opposition  be- 
tween communal  and  family  life.  The  destruction  of 
the  former  in  the  seventeenth  century  elevated  the  fam- 
ily to  the  supreme  place,  and  around  it  the  amusements 
and  pleasures  of  the  eighteenth  century  were  clustered. 
English  families  at  this  time  lived  an  isolated  life. 
Church-going  and  the  hunt  seem  to  be  the  only  com- 
munal interests  that  survived,  and  too  much  is  usually 
made  even  of  them.  They  should  be  looked  upon  more 
as  incentives  to  the  good  meals  and  other  home  pleasures 
that  exercise  made  enjoyable  than  as  ends  in  themselves. 
The  dangers,  uncertainties,  and  privations  that  in  earlier 
times  had  attended  hunting  had  disappeared.  It  meant 
merely  a  fine  morning  ride  followed  by  a  good  dinner. 
The  military  air  of  the  nobility  had  also  disappeared. 
The  squire  sold  his  pistols  and  sword  to  buy  a  bath- 
tub. It  is  hard  to  overestimate  the  importance  of  the 
introduction  of  so  simple  an  article.  Other  people  bathe 
to  keep  clean ;  an  Englishman  bathes  because  it  is  en- 
joyable. Bathing  has  become  an  end  in  itself,  and  his 
house  and  daily  life  are  pivoted  around  it.  Much  of  the 
sensuality  of  earlier  days  was  due,  not  to  a  bad  disposi- 


THE  MORALISTS  193 

tion,  but  to  an  overplus  of  energy  and  warmth  of  blood. 
A  cold  bath  remedied  this,  and  left  the  bather  in  a  normal 
condition  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  An  unbathed  Eng- 
lishman is  a  sensualist ;  a  bath  turns  him  into  a  gentle 
optimist.  The  bath-tub  is  the  parent  of  that  English 
optimism  of  which  the  last  two  centuries  have  seen  so 
many  examples. 

The  advent  of  the  bath-tub,  however,  is  only  an  index 
of  many  other  changes  that  tended  to  emphasize  family 
life.  The  new  fashion  of  tea-drinking  came  in  because 
hot  drinks  were  grateful  after  the  blood  had  been  cooled 
off  by  a  bath,  and  were  also  delightful  after  exercise  or 
exposure  in  a  damp,  chilly  climate.  Tea-drinking  thus 
became  a  pleasing  complement  to  bathing  and  outdoor 
sports,  and  added  to  the  charms  of  home  life.  The  habit 
of  smoking  and  the  increase  in  all  kinds  of  reading  matter 
strengthened  the  same  inclinations.  The  library  became 
a  necessity  in  a  gentleman's  house,  and  with  it  were  associ- 
ated not  merely  reading  and  study,  but  also  smoking, 
conversation,  and  a  host  of  other  innocent  home  pleasures. 
Slippers  and  a  dressing-gown  were  more  essential  than 
spurred  boots  or  a  military  coat,  and  by  displacing  the 
ruder  habits  and  customs  of  earlier  days  gave  a  more 
important  place  to  women.  So  many  of  the  new  pleas- 
ures were  due  to  women's  activity  that  woman  exerted  a 
controlling  influence  in  the  family,  and  checked  the  bru- 
tality and  coarseness  of  the  men. 

In  these  descriptions  I  have  in  mind  more  especially 
the  country  nobility.  They  were  the  initiators  of  good 
movements,  and  set  the  standards  that  Englishmen  still 
follow.  We  often  hear  of  the  corruption  and  impurity  of 
the  upper  classes  in  the  eighteenth  century,  but  these 
charges  are  true  only  of  the  court  society  and  the  wealthy 
inhabitants  of  the  towns,  with  whom  the  country  gentry 
had  little  to  do.  The  latter  went  seldom  to  London,  and 
then  only  after  the  most  formal  preparation.     And  as  the 


194  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

new  dynasty  was  not  popular  with  the  Tory  nobility,  the 
isolation  naturally  characteristic  of  country  life  was  in- 
tensified. Each  country  home  was  thus  a  miniature  type 
of  the  civilization  of  the  day,  those  things  being  empha- 
sized that  could  be  best  enjoyed  in  a  home  environment. 
It  was  fortunate,  therefore,  that  when  on  account  of  the 
great  industrial  changes  men  of  new  wealth  began  to 
appear,  they  imitated  the  country  gentry  and  not  the 
corrupt  court  party.  They  bought  estates,  isolated  them- 
selves after  the  prevailing  fashion,  and  by  building  new 
houses  on  a  more  modern  plan  they  helped  to  augment 
the  pleasures  of  home  life  and  to  increase  its  influence. 
It  matters  little,  therefore,  what  the  court  party  did. 
They  were  merely  a  phenomenon  of  the  moment.  The 
country  gentry  succeeded  and  survived,  and  thus  made 
general  the  ideals  of  home  life  that  their  peculiar  condi- 
tions created. 

The  landed  proprietors  promoted  also  a  revolution  in 
agriculture.  Early  in  the  century  a  craze  for  improve- 
ment broke  out,  due,  no  doubt,  to  the  monotony  of  coun- 
try life.  Having  reconstructed  their  own  houses,  the 
gentry  interested  themselves  in  their  tenantry  and  in 
everything  relating  to  their  estates.  Waste  land  was 
enclosed,  swamps  were  drained,  the  cultivation  of  root  and 
grass  crops  was  encouraged,  and  the  various  domestic  ani- 
mals were  so  much  improved  that  they  became  in  reality 
new  breeds.  These  changes  were  greatest  in  the  regions 
far  from  London,  where  the  gentry  were  most  isolated 
and  felt  most  keenly  the  defects  of  country  life.  The 
north  of  England  was  transformed  into  a  new  country, 
and  the  way  opened  for  the  industry  which  has  since 
made  this  region  so  well  known.  The  old  England  had 
centred  in  the  higher  lands  of  the  south ;  the  north  and 
the  great  coast  swamps  had  been  almost  unoccupied.  The 
latter  were  now  filled  up  with  a  busy  population  living 
under  conditions  quite  as  new  as  those  which  now  charac- 


THE  MORALISTS  195 

terize  the  Western  states  in  America.  Many  traditions, 
habits,  and  customs  were  carried  from  the  old  regions  to 
the  new,  but  an  extensive  migration  necessarily  broke 
down  many  old  survivals,  and  prepared  the  way  for  the 
adoption  of  new  ways  of  living.  It  was  fortunate  for 
England  that  this  internal  movement  of  population  hap- 
pened at  a  time  when  foreign  commerce  was  introducing 
many  new  articles,  and  when  the  development  of  internal 
industry  was  cheapening  old  ones.  These  simultaneous 
changes  enabled  new  ideas  and  ways  of  living  both  to 
secure  adoption  and  to  avoid  the  opposition  that  they 
would  otherwise  have  encountered.  The  great  changes 
appeared  in  unknown  regions,  and  did  not  attract  general 
notice  until  they  were  too  securely  rooted  to  be  opposed. 

The  condition  of  the  labouring  population  of  the  newer 
country  districts  was  altered  even  more  than  that  of  the 
nobility.  The  improvements  in  agriculture  gave  labour- 
ers regular  employment,  and  often  increased  their  wages. 
Their  houses  were  reconstructed  on  a  better  plan,  and  the 
introduction  of  coal  and  glass  made  it  possible  to  heat  and 
light  them  properly.  The  use  of  tea  and  sugar  became 
general,  thus  providing  the  working  people  something 
warm  at  each  meal  when  they  returned  from  outdoor 
exposure  in  the  fields.  In  earlier  times  the  labourers 
had  little  warm  food  except  porridge.  Now  this  and 
similar  dishes  were  displaced  by  baked  foods ;  so  long  as 
food  had  been  cooked  in  a  pot  over  an  open  fire  only 
watery  dishes  could  be  made,  but  ovens  made  dry  foods 
possible.  Bread  and  meat  could  now  be  cooked  in  more 
palatable  forms  than  formerly,  and  these  when  supple- 
mented by  the  new  drinks,  like  tea  and  ale,  furnished  a 
really  wholesome  diet.  The  oven,  the  brewery,  and  the 
tea-pot  were  all  factors  in  the  transformation  of  the 
labourer's  life.  The  beverages  were  the  natural  supple- 
ments of  the  new  oven  diet. 

While  these  changes  in  diet  were  in  progress,  others  of 


196  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

equal  importance  were  being  made  in  clothing.  A  damp 
climate  like  that  of  England  necessitates  a  free  use  of 
wool.  In  earlier  times  the  poor  had  been  clothed  largely 
in  leather  or  in  linen ;  wool  was  used,  if  at  all,  merely 
for  outer  garments.  Woollen  underwear  was  practically 
unknown  among  the  poor,  and  what  little  wool  they  had 
was  utilized  in  a  very  ineffectual  way.  The  weaving  was 
bad,  and  even  the  best  of  garments  left  much  of  the  body 
exposed.  Only  their  coarse,  heavy  diet  and  vigorous  con- 
stitutions enabled  the  poor  to  withstand  the  evils  that  re- 
sulted. In  early  times  most  of  the  English  wool  was  fine, 
and  was  used  to  make  broadcloths  and  other  goods  that 
the  rich  alone  could  afford  to  purchase.  The  coarse  wools, 
such  as  are  now  used  in  underwear  and  ordinary  clothing, 
came  into  general  use  only  after  the  improvements  in 
sheep  breeding.  When  mutton  became  valuable  the 
coarse-woolled  sheep  displaced  the  fine-woolled  sheep  that 
was  valuable  for  its  fleece  alone.  This  change  made  it 
possible  to  clothe  the  English  people  properly. 

Another  important  industrial  development  that  tended 
in  the  same  direction  was  the  use  of  cotton  and  especially 
the  introduction  of  calico  printing.  The  outer  garments 
then  began  to  be  made  mainly  of  cotton,  while  the  under- 
wear was  woollen.  The  outer  suit  gave  the  appearance 
of  neatness,  protected  the  wearer  from  dirt,  and  bore 
most  of  the  wear  and  tear,  was  easily  washed,  had  much 
endurance,  and  could  be  readily  replaced.  Such  a  suit 
alone  would  be  unendurable  except  in  a  dry,  warm  climate ; 
but  when  used  with  a  suit  of  woollen  underwear  it  fur- 
nishes ideal  clothing  for  the  working  classes  of  a  cold 
climate.  Each  garment  is  efficient  for  its  own  end,  and 
supplements  the  defects  of  the  others.  These  double 
suits  were  adopted  by  the  poorer  classes  only  after  cali- 
coes and  other  cotton  goods  came  into  use.  The  external 
suit  of  cotton  could  be  kept  neat,  and  calico  printing 
gave  for  the  first  time  that  variety  of  colour  and  pattern 


THE   MORALISTS  197 

which  makes  the  cultivation  of  taste  possible.  Village 
maidens  could  then  make  their  dress  attractive,  and  those 
who  were  clever  enough  to  utilize  the  new  material  found 
in  it  a  decided  advantage. 

The  country  people  were  also  greatly  benefited  by  the 
transference  of  industries  from  the  older  towns  to  the 
country  districts.  The  finer  goods  were  still  town-made, 
subject  to  the  regulations  of  the  local  guilds,  but  the 
demand  for  poorer,  coarser  goods  became  so  great  that 
it  was  profitable  to  employ  the  unskilled  country  labour 
in  their  production.  Industries  moved  away  from  the 
skilled  and  more  highly  paid  labour  of  the  towns,  and 
settled  in  regions  where  labour  was  at  best  but  partly 
employed.  This  change  offered  the  country  people,  much 
to  their  advantage,  by-industries  which  occupied  their 
leisure  time  and  employed  the  idle  women  and  children. 
Detrimental  as  it  was  to  the  town  artisans,  it  brought 
about  a  great  improvement  in  the  country  at  large.  On 
the  one  hand  it  gave  employment  to  the  great  mass  of 
unskilled  labour,  and  on  the  other  it  created  a  mass  of 
cheap  goods  which  were  consumed  by  the  labourers  them- 
selves. These  goods,  it  is  true,  were  of  an  inferior 
quality,  but  the  better,  town-made  goods  would  have  been 
too  costly  for  workmen  to  purchase. 

These  new  industries  were  also  of  especial  importance 
because  of  the  employment  they  gave  to  women.  A  dime 
in  a  woman's  hands  is  of  more  importance  in  the  upbuild- 
ing of  family  life  than  a  dollar  in  the  hands  of  a  man. 
Not  only  does  all  of  the  woman's  dime  usually  go  for 
material  that  elevates  the  home,  but  she  adds  much  to 
the  value  of  the  material  by  her  own  work  and  skill. 
Homes  are  not  possible  until  women  have  incomes. 
Woman's  purity  also  depends  upon  her  economic  inde- 
pendence. Incomeless  women  are  always  subject  to  the 
caprice  of  men ;  they  secure  power  only  by  pandering  to 
men's  passions.      No  revolution  can  be  of  more  impor- 


198  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

tance  than  one  which,  gives  to  women  the  power  to  earn 
enough  to  free  themselves  from  coercion.  This  the  indus- 
trial changes  of  the  early  eighteenth  century  accomplished, 
and  the  evils  they  brought  are  small  in  comparison  to  this 
one  gain. 

During  the  whole  of  this  epoch  the  condition  of  Eng- 
land was  rapidly  improving,  except  in  the  towns  and  in 
a  few  of  the  older  country  districts.  Security  and  good 
order  had  followed  immediately  after  the  revolution  of 
1688,  and  a  single  generation  had  been  enough  to  efface 
the  effects  of  the  earlier  disorders.  Although  the  violent 
prejudices  of  earlier  times  were  retained,  they  were  of 
little  consequence,  because  both  the  Puritan  and  the 
Catholic  parties  were  practically  extinct.  Every  one  was 
optimistic,  and  made  it  his  chief  end  to  be  comfortable. 
The  evidences  of  prosperity  were  visible  on  every  hand ; 
wages  were  higher  and  work  steadier.  The  lower  rate  of 
interest  and  higher  rents  show  how  general  were  the  im- 
proved conditions.  The  increased  supply  of  capital  made 
great  agricultural  improvements  possible,  and  these  in 
turn  permitted  higher  rents  to  be  paid  without  increasing 
the  price  of  food.  The  labourer's  food,  in  fact,  cost  him 
less  than  formerly,  on  account  of  the  greater  economy 
and  better  cooking.  Potatoes  and  other  vegetables  which 
came  into  general  use  reduced  the  need  of  the  more  costly 
bread  and  meat.  A  well-clothed,  well-housed  family  does 
not  need  half  the  food  required  by  those  who  are  con- 
stantly exposed  to  the  vicissitudes  of  a  damp,  raw  climate, 
while  warm  foods  and  drinks  still  further  reduce  the  con- 
sumption of  food.  English  writers  have  the  queer  notion 
that  the  welfare  of  the  labouring  classes  can  be  deter- 
mined by  the  quantity  of  wheat  their  wages  will  buy. 
No  standard  could  be  more  fallacious  when  great  changes 
in  consumption  are  taking  place.  In  such  cases  the  dearer 
articles  are  driven  out,  or  at  least  their  use  is  much  dimin- 
ished.    It  is  quite  possible,  therefore,  for  staple  articles 


THE    MORALISTS  199 

to  be  rising  in  value,  and  at  the  same  time  for  the  labourer's 
condition,  his  whole  consumption  being  taken  into  account, 
to  be  improving.  Estimated  in  this  way,  the  satisfaction 
that  a  country  family  derived  from  its  earned  income  had 
certainly  doubled  by  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of  the 
century,  and  the  improvement  in  the  next  forty  years  was 
almost  as  great.  There  was,  however,  some  loss  in  public 
advantages  due  to  the  enclosures  and  other  aggressions  of 
landlords,  but  these  losses  did  not  become  real  grievances 
until  later. 

The  two  marked  changes  in  the  eighteenth  century, 
of  which  people  were  conscious,  were  the  improvement 
of  family  life  and  of  agriculture.  Both  of  these  were 
mainly  due  to  country  influences,  and  especially  to  the 
changes  in  the  newer  districts.  At  that  time  no  one  was 
conscious  of  the  industrial  revolution  of  the  period,  that 
being  a  discovery  of  the  present  century.  The  pamphlet 
literature  of  the  eighteenth  century  voices  one  long  wail 
of  hard  times.  This  mistaken  alarm  is  especially  notice- 
able in  the  woollen  industry,  which  every  one  regarded  as 
ruined.  At  first  sight  it  seems  unaccountable  that  there 
should  have  been  so  many  complaints  in  this  industry  at  a 
time  when  the  production  of  wool  was  increasing  rapidly, 
and  most  of  it  was  made  up  in  England.  Industrial  revo- 
lutions, however,  always  break  down  staple  industries  in 
well-established  places,  and  create  new  ones  in  new  quar- 
ters. The  public  are  so  accustomed  to  measure  their  pros- 
perity by  the  industrial  condition  of  old,  well-established 
trades  and  centres  that  a  decline  in  these  regions  is  mis- 
taken for  a  general  stagnation  of  national  industry.  The 
old  centres  of  trade  in  England  made  fine  goods,  and  did 
not  adjust  themselves  readily  to  the  new  demand  for  coarse, 
cheap  goods.  In  the  manufacture  of  these  new  goods,  the 
skilled  labour  of  the  old  centres  had  not  the  same  advan- 
tage they  enjoyed  when  the  wool  was  finer  in  quality 
and   made  up   into   better  and   more   durable  cloth.     It 


[ 


200  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

was  a  long  time  before  the  new  centres  attracted  public 
attention;  and  in  the  meantime  the  decline  in  the  trade 
of  the  old  centres  was  naturally  looked  upon  as  a  na- 
tional loss.  The  evils  of  great  changes  show  themselves 
quickly,  because  they  happen  under  the  public  eye,  while 
their  benefits  declare  themselves  only  to  succeeding  gen- 
erations. Thus  the  so-called  hard  times  of  one  century 
may  come  to  be  regarded  by  the  next  century  as  marvel- 
lously good  times.  English  people  were  as  blind  to  the 
improvements  of  the  eighteenth  century  as  nations  now 
are  to  the  industrial  progress  of  the  last  thirty  years. 
Think  how  odd  it  will  seem  to  people  of  another  century 
to  read  of  our  complaints  of  the  abundance  and  cheapness 
of  wheat,  or  to  see  on  one  page  of  a  newspaper  an  account 
of  our  increased  poverty,  and  to  learn  from  the  adver- 
tisements on  another  of  the  increased  variety  and  extent 
of  our  daily  consumption. 

I  have  pictured  this  improvement  in  the  conditions 
of  country  life  in  order  to  contrast  it  more  clearly  with 
the  decay  in  national  character  and  life  that  was  going 
on  in  the  towns.  Reports  of  town  life,  especially  in  the 
great  seaports,  show  that  it  was  full  of  degradation  and 
corruption.  The  moral  influence  of  the  growth  of  com- 
merce was  as  bad  for  the  cities  as  the  influence  of  the 
agricultural  improvements  was  good  for  the  country. 
This  is  not  strange  when  we  understand  the  causes. 
During  this  period  England  made  many  conquests  in 
foreign  lands ;  France  and  Holland  were  driven  from 
the  seas ;  the  American  colonies  were  developed ;  and 
substantial  progress  was  made  in  the  conquest  of  India. 
These  foreign  regions  afforded  an  outlet  for  adventurous 
spirits.  The  risks  of  trade  and  enterprise  were  great, 
but  the  rewards  were  great.  Risk-takers  and  adven- 
turers are  the  more  sensual  part  of  a  nation,  and  Eng- 
land was  fortunate  in  having  an  outlet  for  men  of  this 
class.     It  withdrew  from  her  home  population,  especially 


THE  MORALISTS  201 

from  the  country  districts,  an  element  that  might  have 
formed  a  serious  obstacle  to  progress.  The  moral  up- 
building of  the  nation  was  largely  due  to  the  removal 
of  members  of  this  class,  who  were  attracted  to  foreign 
lands,  and  there  found  vent  for  their  passions.  The 
mass  of  these  adventurers  never  returned ;  and  those 
who  did  return  came  in  contact  with  and  corrupted  only 
the  great  seaport  towns,  where  the  gains  of  foreign  trade 
were  poured  out  and  dissipated  in  the  way  that  all  easily 
earned  money  goes.  Mandeville's  celebrated  Fable  of  the 
Bees  pictures  the  activity  of  people  of  this  class  and  the 
influence  they  exerted  on  home  industry.  In  a  town 
thriving  on  the  ill-gotten  gains  of  sailors  and  foreign 
adventurers,  it  is  strictly  true  that  private  vices  are 
public  benefits,  and  that  trade  and  industry  would  de- 
cline if  men  became  virtuous.  England  thus  had  a 
double  gain  from  her  foreign  conquests.  She  lost 
some  of  the  more  sensual  members  of  her  population, 
while  at  the  same  time  the  wealth  and  industry  of  the 
home  population  were  greatly  increased  by  the  expendi- 
ture among  them  of  the  large  gains  of  adventure.  The 
only  resultant  evil  was  the  lowering  of  the  moral  tone  of 
city  life,  and  even  this  was  of  a  temporary  character.  The 
steady  upbuilding  of  country  life  established  standards 
that  the  cities  were  finally  compelled  to  adopt. 

As  a  result  of  the  new  social  conditions,  the  position 
of  country  and  city  was  reversed.  In  the  seventeenth 
century  the  cities  were  the  home  of  religion  and  morality, 
and  the  country  was  full  of  vice.  The  Maypoles,  festi- 
vals, and  fairs,  that  were  the  Puritans'  abomination,  were 
country  events.  Every  little  village  retained  some  primi- 
tive customs  that  lowered  the  moral  tone  of  its  inhabi- 
tants. Puritanism  was  a  raid  of  the  town  on  the 
country  to  put  a  stop  to  these  evils.  The  force  of  the 
Puritan  movement  was  spent  when  they  had  been  abol- 
ished.     In    the    eighteenth    century,   however,    we   find 


202  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

comparatively  little  vice  in  the  country.  The  sensual 
were  then  drawn  from  it  to  the  towns  and  to  foreign 
lands.  Country  life  was  pure,  but  the  towns  were  full 
of  prostitution.  Moral  and  religious  movements  began 
to  originate  in  the  country.  Even  the  oity  clergy  were 
a  lifeless  body,  often  corrupt  and  vicious.  Country  mor- 
alists were,  therefore,  compelled  to  turn  their  attention 
to  city  vice ;  and  they  strove  as  earnestly  to  eradicate 
it  as  the  city  enthusiasts  in  the  preceding  century  had 
striven  to  suppress  country  vice. 

These  facts  give  a  clue  to  the  causes  shaping  the  devel- 
opment of  thought  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It  was  not 
a  continuation  of  the  work  of  the  preceding  century,  but 
a  new  movement  which  did  for  the  country  what  Puritan- 
ism had  done  for  the  cities.  One  section  of  the  English 
people  moved  forward  in  the  seventeenth  century,  the 
other  section  in  the  eighteenth  century.  The  whole  na- 
tion was  not  transformed  and  the  two  sections  blended 
into  a  harmonious  unit  until  both  movements  were  com- 
plete. The  present  characteristics  of  the  English  nation 
appeared  only  after  the  city  had  first  invaded  the  country 
to  destroy  its  superstitions,  and  sensual  practices,  and  the 
country  had  then,  in  turn,  forced  the  city  to  adopt  its  new 
concept  of  family  life. 

To  treat  these  two  movements  from  a  psychological 
standpoint,  we  must  return  to  the  distinction  between  the 
observer  and  the  visualizer.  An  observer  of  men  makes 
his  eyes  the  main  instrument  in  his  collection  of  data. 
He  sees  the  outside  of  things,  and  judges  other  people,  not 
by  their  internal  states  of  which  he  has  no  direct  evidence, 
but  by  their  looks  and  actions.  He  is  thus  entirely  altro- 
spective,  seeing  only  the  impressions  that  excite  mental 
activity,  and  the  expressions  through  which  this  activity 
impresses  itself  on  outer  objects  and  persons.  The  visual- 
izer, on  the  contrary,  is  concerned  mainly  with  his  own 
mental  states.     His   mental  mechanism  creates  for  him 


THE   MORALISTS  203 

visual  or  word  pictures,  which  he  follows  in  his  own  ac- 
tivity. He  also  strenuously  endeavours  to  influence  others 
with  the  ideals  and  principles  he  has  developed.  The 
visualizer  thus  lives  in  an  abstract,  ideal  world,  while  the 
observer  lives  in  a  concrete  world.  The  one  looks  inward 
for  his  motives,  the  other  looks  outward,  and  is  influenced 
by  the  actions  of  those  about  him.'  The  one,  therefore, 
tends  to  break  down  social  customs  and  standards,  while 
the  other  helps  to  create  them  by  imitating  other  people, 
and  by  striving  to  reach  the  level  of  his  superiors.  The 
perception  of  ideals  makes  an  individual  indifferent  to  the 
ordinary  habits  and  customs  of  society  and  often  opposed 
to  them,  while  the  more  concrete  methods  of  an  observer 
tend  to  strengthen  these  habits. 

The  differences  in  the  thought  of  the  two  centuries 
depend  upon  the  differences  between  these  two  types  of 
men.  Normally  the  observer  should  have  preceded  the 
visualizer.  Men  naturally  observe  objects  and  act  on  the 
data  thus  obtained  before  they  become  introspective 
enough  to  elevate  their  subjective  states  to  the  first  place. 
Country  life  also  should  influence  civilization  before  city 
life.  The  rapid  development  of  city  thought  and  charac- 
ter however  was  due  to  foreign  influences,  and  to  peculiar 
economic  conditions.  The  progress  of  the  country  had 
also  been  retarded  by  the  strength  of  its  sensual  impulses. 
The  cities  thus  injected  into  national  life  an  abnormal 
type  of  men,  who  implanted  certain  impulses  and  ideals 
in  the  national  character  before  correct  habits  of  observa- 
tion had  been  acquired.  These  defects  the  development 
of  the  country  population  in  the  eighteenth  century  rem- 
edied, but  to  apply  the  remedy  in  a  natural  way  it  was 
necessary  to  start  from  a  simpler  standpoint  than  that 
of  the  preceding  century.  Only  observed  facts  were 
admitted  as  evidence.  The  background  where  fancy  and 
imagination  work  was  rigidly  excluded.  The  attitude  of 
the  observer  had  fully  as  many  defects  as  that  of  the  visu- 


204  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

alizer,  but  the  discredit  into  which  the  latter  had  fallen 
helped  to  make  the  observer  oblivious  of  his  own  weak- 
ness. Men  so  placed  have  naive  confidence  in  the  strength 
of  their  position,  and  do  not  leave  it  until  they  are  forced 
on  by  the  pressure  of  their  subsequent  development. 
The  great  writers  of  the  eighteenth  century  were  country 
bred  and  looked  at  social  problems  from  a  country  stand- 
point. Even  Hume  and  Adam  Smith  never  doubted  the 
ordinary  axioms  of  country  people.  To  them  as  to  others 
the  country  was  the  backbone  of  the  nation  ;  it  embod- 
ied the  purity  and  the  morality  of  the  nation.  Country 
prosperity  was  national  prosperity,  of  which  the  growth 
of  rent  was  the  best  index.  Men  imbued  with  these 
ideas  would  find  little  to  sympathize  with  in  the  earlier 
writers  who  emphasized  the  virtues  and  the  importance 
of  city  people.  The  new  generation,  therefore,  was  com- 
pelled to  collect  its  own  data  in  economic  as  well  as  in 
other  fields.  Only  after  the  work  of  observation  and 
inference  was  well  advanced  did  it  learn  to  appreciate  the 
work  of  its  predecessors.  The  two  currents  of  thought 
did  not  blend  until  the  end  of  the  epoch,  and  even  then 
the  union  was  not  complete. 

The  visualizing  power  of  the  preceding  epoch  had 
reached  its  highest  development  in  Milton  and  Bunyan. 
The  new  epoch  takes  its  humble  start  in  the  famous 
Fable  of  the  Bees. 1  Mandeville's  standpoint  is  not  to 
be  regarded  as  a  degeneration  from  the  higher  level  of 
the  Puritan  writers,  nor  yet  as  a  reversion  to  some  earlier 
type  of  thought.  It  represents  the  attitude  of  a  new 
man   just   rising  to  self-consciousness   and    judging  the 

1  This  pamphlet  in  doggerel  poetry  was  first  published  by  Mandeville 
in  1705  and  was  called  The  Grumbling  Hive,  or  Knaves  turned  Honest. 
It  was  republished  in  1714  under  the  title  of  The  Fable  of  the  Bees,  or 
Private  vices  Public  Benefits.  The  essay  on  Charity  and  Charity  Schools 
appeared  in  1728.     Mandeville  died  in  1733. 


THE  MOEALISTS  205 

world  solely  by  the  evidence  of  his  own  eyes.  Could  a 
man  be  born  full-fledged  without  education,  tradition,  or 
racial  impulses,  he  would  be  more  like  Mandeville  than 
any  other  writer.  Study  men  simply  with  the  eye,  and 
only  skin,  flesh,  and  structure  are  seen.  Observe  their 
activities,  and  the  one  obvious  fact  is  that  various  pas- 
sions in  succession  control  the  actions  of  men.1 

The  Fable  of  the  Bees  would  have  attracted  little 
attention  had  it  not  contained  a  few  striking  doctrines 
which  the  poetical  form  helped  to  make  paradoxical. 
The  sub-title  asserted  that  private  vices  are  public  bene- 
fits, and  every  page  emphasized  this  thought  or  others 
equally  repugnant  to  the  ordinary  concepts  of  morality. 
The  book,  therefore,  seemed  scarcely  worthy  of  notice, 
yet  it  had  a  lasting  influence  because  it  introduced 
several  doctrines  which  were  to  be  the  centres  of  contro- 
versy throughout  the  century. 

When  great  changes  are  taking  place  in  national 
thought  the  old  forms  of  ideas  remain  unaltered.  Long 
after  their  activities  have  been  modified  by  new  condi- 
tions, people  continue  to  think  according  to  the  old 
formulae.  Suddenly  some  bold  thinker  discards  these 
formulae,  and  startles  the  world  with  ideas  in  harmony 
with  men's  activities,  though  not  with  their  words  and 
ideas.  Mandeville's  book  has  the  merit  of  showing  how 
the  inherited  ideals  and  the  conventional  use  of  words 
were  no  longer  suited  to  the  conditions  of  English  society. 
The  shock  that  his  crude  utterance  gave  is  due  partly  to 
the  failure  of  old  ideas  to  satisfy  new  requirements,  but 
most  of  all  to  one  of  those  unobserved  changes  in  lan- 
guage by  which  words  have  new  meanings  forced  upon 
them  without  at  the  same  time  losing  their  former  conno- 

1  "I  believe  man  (besides  skin,  flesh,  bones,  etc.,  that  are  obvious  to 
the  eye)  to  be  a  compound  of  the  various  passions,  that  all  of  them,  as 
they  are  provoked  and  come  uppermost,  govern  him  by  turns,  whether 
he  will  or  no."  —  Preface  to  the  Fable  of  the  Bees. 


206  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

tations.  An  earlier  generation  would  have  made  short 
work  of  the  statement  that  private  vices  are  public  bene- 
fits. They  would  not  have  joined  issue  with  Mandeville 
as  to  what  private  vices  are,  but  would  have  flatly  denied 
that  such  acts  could  ever  produce  public  benefits.  The 
strength  of  Mandeville's  position  lies  in  the  assumption 
that  the  pursuit  of  wealth  is  beneficial  to  public  welfare, 
and  that  trade  and  industry  are  the  criterions  of  national 
greatness.  Earlier  moralists  would  have  denied  this. 
They  would  have  said  that  the  love  of  money  is  the  root 
of  all  evil,  and  that  it  was  harder  for  a  rich  man  to  enter 
heaven  than  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a 
needle. 

Mandeville's  description  of  the  fraud,  crime,  and  vice  of 
an  industrial  society  was  not  new.  These  were  the  common- 
places of  every  pulpit  orator,  and  denunciations  of  these 
evils  much  stronger  than  his  can  be  found  in  the  writings 
of  the  churchmen.  There  was,  therefore,  in  the  old  tirade 
against  the  love  of  wealth,  a  ready-made  answer  to  all 
that  Mandeville  had  said.  But  the  change  in  the  na- 
tional thought  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  no  one  denied  that 
the  pursuit  of  wealth  was  beneficial.  Mandeville's  crite- 
rion of  national  prosperity  was  accepted  by  every  one  tak- 
ing part  in  the  controversy  excited  by  his  book.  In  this 
noteworthy  fact  lies  the  key  to  the  whole  discussion.  To 
meet  existing  conditions,  his  opponents  were  compelled  to 
alter  the  meaning  of  the  word  "  vice,"  and  thus  to  modify 
their  concept  of  human  nature.  So  long  as  man  in  a 
fallen  state  was  thought  to  be  totally  depraved,  all  motives 
prompting  his  activities  were  looked  upon  as  vicious. 
Every  natural  impulse  was  to  be  repressed,  while  every 
gratification  strengthened  the  evil  tendencies  in  men  and 
reduced  the  hope  of  an  escape  from  the  curse  of  sin. 
Religious  concepts  of  this  type  cannot  be  reconciled  with 
the  idea  that  the  pursuit  of  wealth  is  beneficial.  In  Man- 
deville's  time   every  one   admitted   that   the   pursuit  of 


THE  MORALISTS  207 

wealth  was  perfectly  natural.  The  prophet,  the  priest,  the 
moralist,  and  even  the  warrior  might  feel  an  inspiration 
and  claim  to  be  doing  God's  work  ;  but  the  merchant,  the 
trader,  and  the  artisan  were  working  merely  for  men,  and 
could  not  be  given  a  high  place  except  by  exalting  man's 
concept  of  human  nature. 

The  moralists  had  always  denned  vice  as  any  gratifica- 
tion of  the  appetites,  and  under  such  a  definition  the 
pursuit  of  wealth  was  certainly  to  be  condemned.  Mande- 
ville,  therefore,  had  his  opponents  on  the  horns  of  a  di- 
lemma. They  had  either  to  denounce  wealth-getting  or 
to  modify  their  concept  of  vice.  After  much  delay  and 
bitter  controversy  a  narrower  meaning  was  given  to  the 
word  "  vice,"  and  the  ordinary  economic  motives  were  ad- 
mitted to  be  innocent  and  useful.  The  difficulty  lay  in 
the  lack  of  a  clear  discrimination  between  comfort  and 
luxury.  Necessities  and  luxuries  were  contrasted,  but  no 
clearly  defined  middle  point  was  perceived  such  as  the 
word  "  comfort "  now  conveys. 

Mandeville's  main  thought,  repeated  in  his  work  again 
and  again,  is  that  spending  makes  trade  lively,  while  fru- 
gality causes  industrial  stagnation.  Honesty,  content- 
ment, and  frugality  are  suited  to  an  indolent  society  ;  but 
the  necessities,  the  vices,  and  the  imperfections  of  men 
are  the  sources  of  all  the  arts,  as  well  as  of  industry  and 
labour.  Extreme  heat  and  cold,  bad  seasons,  treacherous 
waters,  violent  winds,  and  fire  are  regarded  as  benefits  be- 
cause they  make  men  work  and  keep  trade  lively.  The 
burning  of  London  was  advantageous  because  it  increased 
the  demand  for  labour.  A  hundred  bales  of  cloth  sunk 
in  the  sea  aided  the  poor  in  England  as  much  as  if  every 
yard  had  reached  the  consumer.  Such  doctrines,  even 
apart  from  their  moral  bearings,  could  not  but  excite  op- 
position. The  challenge  was  accepted  by  the  believers  in 
frugality  and  morality.  The  long  discussion  did  not  end 
until  the  opposing  doctrine  was  formulated  in  Mill's  fa- 


208  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

mous  fourth  proposition  that  a  demand  for  commodities  is 
not  a  demand  for  labour.  This  proposition  is  the  essence 
of  economic  orthodoxy,  and  there  is  scarcely  an  economist 
since  the  time  of  Mandeville  who  has  not  done  something 
to  strengthen  this  bulwark  defending  the  usefulness  of 
frugality  and  the  indispensability  of  capital. 

It  is  often  said  that  we  owe  to  Adam  Smith  the  doctrine 
that  the  self-interest  of  men  prompts  them  to  actions  that 
harmonize  with  public  welfare.  It  is  even  said  that  the 
greed  of  individuals  promotes  the  interests  of  society 
through  the  competition  and  rivalry  it  excites  in  trade. 
However  the  doctrine  may  be  stated,  it  is  but  a  refined 
form  of  the  paradox  of  Mandeville  that  "The  worst  of 
all  the  multitude  did  something  for  the  common  good." 
Mandeville  thought  that  trade  was  promoted  by  the  grati- 
fication of  the  desires  and  passions.  The  drunkard,  the 
thief,  or  the  harlot,  by  creating  a  demand  for  goods,  pro- 
moted industry.  Their  spending,  as  much  as  that  of  any 
other  class,  promoted  public  prosperity.  If  a  man  robbed 
a  miser  "the  nation  would  be  the  better  for  the  robbery," 
and  the  benefit  would  be  as  great  and  real  as  if  a  philan- 
thropist had  given  a  like  sum  to  the  public.  Crude  as 
this  doctrine  is,  it  yet  contains  the  essence  of  that  eco- 
nomic optimism  which  at  a  later  time  became  so  popular. 
To  refute  it  there  was  needed  a  doctrine  of  capital  making 
the  saver  a  better  man  than  the  spendthrift.  If  it  can  be 
proved  that  spending  impoverishes  and  saving  enriches  a 
nation,  then  only  capitalists  are  public  benefactors,  and 
"the  worst  of  all  the  multitude,"  unless  he  is  a  capitalist, 
ceases  to  be  a  benefit  to  his  fellows.  It  is  the  self-interest 
and  greed  of  the  commercial  and  capitalistic  classes  that 
the  optimistic  economists  have  in  mind  when  they  assert 
that  these  motives  harmonize  with  public  interests. 

Mandeville's  bluntness  is  shown  in  the  way  he  handles 
the  labour  problem,  and  here  as  elsewhere  he  anticipates 
the  doctrines  of  the  later  economists.     Cheap  food,  he 


THE  MORALISTS  209 

tells  us,  is  the  basis  of  national  prosperity.  The  wages  of 
labour  should  vary  with  the  price  of  provisions.  The  poor 
should  be  kept  from  starving,  but  they  should  receive 
nothing  more  because  the  surplus  above  the  cost  of  labour 
is  the  source  of  national  prosperity.  He  anticipates  Adam 
Smith  by  stating  the  doctrine  of  the  division  of  labour,  and 
he  sees  clearly  that  the  economy  of  labour  thus  produced  is 
the  cause  of  the  social  surplus  enjoyed  by  the  upper  classes. 
But  in  this  prosperity  he  would  not  have  the  labourers  par- 
ticipate. They  should  be  left  to  endure  poverty  and  its 
hardships  as  best  they  may,  for  a  knowledge  of  economic 
comforts  would  not  make  their  lot  better,  but  worse.  The 
labourer  should  be  contented  and  cheerful,  getting  his 
pleasures  from  his  work  and  from  the  life  that  goes  with 
it.  The  more  rigidly  he  is  separated  from  the  luxuries 
and  vices  of  society,  the  more  pleasant  will  his  lot  appear. 
A  taste  of  luxury  spoils  the  labourer,  raises  prices,  and 
checks  industry.  If  the  labourer  has  plenty  of  work 
and  the  upper  classes  plenty  of  luxuries,  trade  will  thrive 
and  prosperity  increase. 

•  These  thoughts  are  expressed  in  the  essay  on  "  Charity 
Schools."  Mandeville  opposed  the  education  of  the  poor 
on  the  ground  that  a  multitude  of  poor  persons  is  needed 
to  do  the  drudgery  demanded  by  industry  and  trade.  The 
poor  can  share  the  free  goods  of  nature  and  the  pleasures 
of  social  intercourse  ;  for  the  enjoyment  of  these  no  edu- 
cation is  needed.  Education  destroys  these  natural  pleas- 
ures without  supplying  enough  others  to  take  their  place. 
Thus  the  supporters  of  charity  schools  do  not  aid  the 
poor  by  their  charity ;  they  merely  increase  discontent 
and  create  barriers  to  industrial  progress. 

This  exclusion  of  workers  from  all  share  in  national 
prosperity  is  a  characteristic  of  eighteenth-century 
thought.  The  expressions  of  the  economists  are,  as  a 
rule,  less  brutal  than  those  of  Mandeville,  yet  they  start 
from  the  same  assumptions  and  reach  the  same  conclu- 


210  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

sions.  The  growing  feeling  among  labourers  that  they 
were  being  wronged  enabled  them  and  their  sympathizers 
to  use  Mandeville's  main  argument  in  a  way  that  he  cer- 
tainly did  not  foresee.  And  yet  this  modification  lay  on 
the  surface  of  his  theory,  and  only  needed  writers  with  a 
more  humanitarian  spirit  to  bring  it  out.  Mandeville's 
Fable  of  the  Bees  emphasizes  the  contrast  between  the 
workers  and  the  leisure  classes,  and  makes  the  usefulness 
of  the  latter  depend  on  the  need  of  luxury  and  vice  to  main- 
tain trade.  The  upper  classes  he  mentions  are  the  rulers, 
the  priests,  the  soldiers,  the  lawyers,  and  the  physicians. 
Their  sloth,  lust,  avarice,  and  pride  provide  the  work  for 
the  labourers.  With  these  classes  pictured  together  in 
this  unfavourable  way  it  was  easy  to  throw  them  in- 
discriminately into  one  group,  and  represent  them  as  the 
drones  that  feed  on  the  honey  gathered  by  the  bees.  The 
hive  thus  becomes  separated  into  the  workers  and  the 
drones.  Mandeville  is  responsible  for  this  forcible  con- 
trast ;  it  was  his  illustration  that  brought  this  picture  of 
society  into  popular  use.  Why  should  not  the  workers 
eat  their  own  honey  and  drive  the  drones  from  the  hive  ? 
This  is  the  philosophy  of  revolution,  and  springs  from 
another  view  of  the  same  facts  to  which  Mandeville  first 
called  attention. 

While  Mandeville,  in  common  with  all  others  of  his 
day,  was  brutal  in  his  attitude  towards  the  labourers,  it 
is  unjust  to  charge  him  with  moral  laxity.  He  did  not 
think  that  all  virtue  was  a  sham.  It  was  only  the  social 
or  industrial  virtues  that  provoked  in  him  a  feeling  of 
repugnance  and  contempt.  We  are  prone  to  misinter- 
pret eighteenth-century  writers  because  we  use  the  term 
"moral"  in  the  sense  of  ethical,  while  they  made  it  the 
equivalent  of  what  we  now  call  social.  When  Mandeville 
inquires  into  the  origin  of  moral  virtue  it  is  plain  that  he 
has  in  mind  the  virtues  of  a  social  character  —  those  that 
fit  men  for  an  industrial  world.     These  virtues,  he  held, 


THE  MORALISTS  211 

merely  cover  up  with  a  thin  veneering  the  depravity  that 
is  natural  to  a  fallen  man.  The  passions  of  men  still  exert 
their  full  force,  even  though  they  are  slightly  veiled  by 
the  artificial  effects  which  the  feeling  of  honour  and  shame 
can  produce.  The  doctrine  was  not  new,  and  in  accept- 
ing it  Mandeville  showed  how  orthodox  his  religious  ideas 
were.  He  was  careful  to  say  that  the  men  he  described 
were  neither  Jews  nor  Christians,  but  merely  men  in  a  state 
of  nature. 

This  view  of  man  coincided  with  that  of  the  theologians, 
who  believed  that  the  power  to  do  right  did  not  lie  in 
man,  but  must  come  from  above.  They  would  not  admit 
that  an  irreligious  man  could  be  virtuous.  The  more  he 
conformed  by  his  outward  acts  to  moral  standards,  the 
more  were  they  convinced  that  these  pretences  were  a 
sham,  hiding  the  corrupt  tendencies  of  the  natural  man. 
Mandeville  had  plenty  of  good  company  in  his  contempt 
for  the  pretended  virtues  of  unregenerate  men.  It  is 
necessary  to  call  attention  to  this  fact  because  the  sensa- 
tion that  Mandeville  created  was  due  much  less  to  the 
novelty  of  his  views  than  to  the  change  that  men's  con- 
cepts had  undergone.  The  humble  Christian  of  earlier 
days  had  been  displaced  by  a  new  type,  who  had  more 
confidence  in  himself  and  a  stronger  belief  that  his  actions 
had  merit  per  se.  Industrial  success  bred  this  confidence, 
and  those  engaged  in  industry  were  loath  to  acknowledge 
that  their  inclinations  were  not  as  pure  and  noble  as  the 
inclinations  acquired  in  other  vocations.  Mandeville's 
assertions,  though  seemingly  of  a  general  nature,  were 
directed  specially  against  the  industrial  classes,  and  their 
representatives  felt  bound  to  take  up  the  issue  that  he 
offered. 

Although  later  economists  wished  to  disguise  the  doc- 
trines of  Mandeville  and  to  disown  any  connection  with 
him,  yet  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  was  an  economist, 
and  that  in  his  works  are  to  be  found  nearly  all  the  impor- 


212  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

tant  doctrines  that  made  up  the  body  of  the  new  science. 
The  antagonism  of  later  economists  resulted  from  a  repug- 
nance not  merely  to  Mandeville's  moral  ideas,  but  also  to 
his  specific  economic  teachings.  He  was  an  economist,  but 
not  an  orthodox  economist.  The  creed  that  gradually 
crystallizes  into  economic  orthodoxy  first  appears  in  the 
replies  to  the  Fable  of  the  Bees.  It  took  the  joint  ef- 
forts of  Hume  and  John  Stuart  Mill  to  free  economic 
thought  of  its  scepticism  and  crude  empiricism,  and  of 
Adam  Smith  and  Ricardo  to  make  it  respectable  and 
practical. 

Mandeville's  immediate  successor  was  Hume,  whose 
first  book,  the  Treatise  on  Human  Nature,  appeared  in 
1739,1  when  he  was  but  twenty-eight  years  of  age.  The 
traditional  interpretation  of  this  work  arises  from  Hume's 
place  in  the  world's  thought  rather  than  in  English 
thought.  The  Germans,  being  creators  of  the  history 
of  philosophy,  naturally  bring  Hume  and  other  English 
writers  into  their  scheme  only  in  so  far  as  German  thought 
is  affected.  In  this  way  Hobbes,  Locke,  and  Hume  are 
grouped  together  as  the  originators  of  that  sensational 
school  of  philosophy  which  resulted  in  the  scepticism 
that  aroused  Kant  from  his  "dogmatic  slumbers."  This 
grouping  of  English  writers  was  justified  so  long  as  the 
history  of  modern  philosophy  was  in  reality  little  more 
than  a  history  of  German  thought.  English  writers,  how- 
ever, should  be  more  critical,  and  separate  the  history  of 
English  thought  into  epochs  illustrating  its  own  develop- 
ment. Unfortunately  this  has  not  been  done.  Partly 
from  tradition  and  partly  from  the  effects  of  a  foreign 
education,  but  more  largely  from  a  lack  of  appreciation  of 
the  inherent  importance  of  the  development  of  English 

1  In  1748  Hume's  revised  views  appeared  under  the  title  of  An  Inquiry 
concerning  Human  Understanding.  He  wished  the  latter  work  to  dis- 
place the  former,  and  even  advised  against  reading  The  Treatise. 


THE  MORALISTS  213 

thought,  native  writers,  following  the  plan  of  German 
writers,  have  put  Hume  into  the  same  group  with  Hobbes 
and  Locke.  In  this  way  a  single  thought  of  Hume's  is 
emphasized  at  the  expense  of  those  earlier  ideas  through 
which  alone  his  development  can  be  understood.  He  is 
presented  thus  as  a  pupil  of  Locke,  and  the  principles 
which  Locke  had  more  or  less  clearly  enunciated  are 
shown  to  have  been  carried  to  their  logical  results  by 
Hume. 

In  my  opinion,  the  final  blending  of  the  philosophy  of 
these  two  writers  was  an  accident,  and  not  the  result  of  any 
design  on  the  part  of  Hume.  New  philosophies  develop 
out  of  new  economic  conditions,  and  not  out  of  old 
theories.  In  the  end  the  philosophies  of  two  epochs  may 
blend,  but  this  blending  is  an  afterthought,  and  is  not  due 
to  the  second  philosophy  having  sprung  from  the  first.  If 
my  interpretation  is  correct,  the  starting-point  of  Hume's 
development  lay  in  the  writings  of  Mandeville.  Let  us 
see  what  evidence  supports  this  position. 

Unfortunately  the  data  for  an  interpretation  of  Hume's 
mental  development  are  meagre.  His  great  work,  the 
Treatise  on  Human  Nature,  was  written  when  he  was 
young,  and  there  are  no  earlier  essays  to  throw  light  on 
the  path  he  followed.  A  few  of  his  letters  have  been  pre- 
served, in  which  are  found  some  traces  of  his  early  growth 
or  of  his  later  recollections  of  it ;  for  the  most  part, 
however,  we  must  rely  on  a  critical  examination  of  his 
writings,  where  there  is  considerable  evidence  as  to  the 
order  in  which  his  ideas  developed,  and  of  his  struggles 
to  give  them  correct  and  clear  expression.  The  advance 
in  terminology  and  in  the  clearness  of  his  contrasts  shows 
plainly  what  parts  and  chapters  were  written  early,  and 
what  changes  he  was  making  in  the  plan  of  his  work.  In 
one  place  Hume  says  that  his  work  was  planned  before 
he  left  college  and  written  not  long  after;  in  another  that 
it  was  planned  before  he  was  twenty-one,  and  composed 


214  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

at  twenty-five.  We  know,  however,  that  the  Treatise  on 
Human  Nature  was  composed  largely  in  France  at  a  later 
period.  I  take  his  statements  to  mean  that  the  thought 
of  such  a  work  occurred  to  him  very  early,  and  that 
even  at  college  he  collected  material,  and  perhaps  wrote 
some  parts  of  the  book.  The  plan,  however,  was  from 
time  to  time  modified,  the  parts  rewritten,  and  the 
emphasis  shifted  from  one  topic  to  another,  until  the 
printed  book  was  very  different  from  Hume's  early  anti- 
cipations. The  title,  preface,  and  introduction  throw 
light  on  these  changes.  The  title  reads :  "  A  Treatise 
on  Human  Nature ;  being  an  attempt  to  introduce  ex- 
perimental methods  of  reasoning  into  moral  subjects." 
These  moral  subjects,  however,  are  not  what  we  now 
call  ethical,  but  more  nearly  what  we  call  social.  All 
the  eighteenth-century  writers  contrast  the  moral  with 
the  physical.  Hume  makes  it  include  "  the  nature  of  the 
government,  the  revolutions  of  public  affairs,  the  plenty  or 
penury  in  which  the  people  live,  the  situation  of  the  nation 
with  regard  to  its  neighbours,  and  such  like  circumstances." 
It  is  also  plain  that  he  expected  to  use  "experimental 
methods,"  and  this  would  naturally  lead  him  into  the 
study  of  concrete  topics.  The  discussion  of  cause  and 
effect,  space  and  time,  and  other  abstract  topics  was  evi- 
dently an  afterthought,  involved  in  his  scheme  but  not 
consciously  foreseen. 

The  use  of  the  term  "  human  nature  "  in  the  title  is  an- 
other indication  of  his  attitude.  Human  nature  meant 
then,  as  now,  men  as  we  know  them  through  their  con- 
crete relations  and  activities.  To  be  a  good  judge  of 
human  nature  implies  that  a  person  is  a  careful  observer 
of  men  in  every-day  life,  and  has  a  knowledge  of  their 
peculiarities.  If  Hume  had  designed  to  write  a  book  on 
abstract  psychology,  he  would  have  called  it  a  treatise  on 
the  human  mind.  The  mind  is  internal  and  reached  only 
by  inference.     The  natures  of  men  have  external  manifes- 


THE  MORALISTS  215 

tations,  and  these  alone  can  be  studied  by  experimental 
methods.  In  short,  the  design  of  Hume  was  to  write  a 
book  on  what  we  would  now  call  social  psychology,  and 
not  on  individual  psychology,  as  a  continuation  of  Locke's 
work  would  have  involved.  This  fact  is  proved  by  the 
closing  sentences  of  Hume's  introduction.  "We  must 
therefore,"  he  says,  "clear  up  our  experiments  in  this 
science  (moral  philosophy)  from  a  cautious  observation  of 
human  life,  and  take  them  as  they  appear  in  the  common 
course  of  the  world,  by  men's  behaviour  in  company,  in  af- 
fairs, and  in  their  pleasures.  Where  experiments  of  this 
kind  are  judiciously  collected  and  compared,  we  may  hope 
to  establish  on  them  a  science,  which  will  not  be  inferior 
in  certainty,  and  will  be  superior  in  utility,  to  any  other  of 
human  comprehension." 

In  the  closing  sentence  of  his  Essay  on  the  Passions,  he 
says  :  "  It  is  sufficient  for  my  purpose,  if  I  have  made  it 
appear  that,  in  the  production  and  conduct  of  the  pas- 
sions, there  is  a  certain  regular  mechanism,  which  is  sus- 
ceptible of  as  accurate  a  disquisition,  as  the  laws  of 
motion,  optics,  hydrostatics,  or  any  part  of  natural  phi- 
losophy." These  passages  show  that  Hume  intended  to 
write,  not  a  philosophy,  but  a  book  on  social  science,  and 
that  he  thought  the  key  to  the  systematic  study  of  such 
topics  lay  in  the  observation  of  the  human  passions  as  dis- 
played in  e very-day  life.  Following  up  this  thought,  I 
infer  that  the  book  on  the  Passions  was  the  first  part 
written,  and  that  he  designed  it  to  be  an  introduction,  as 
he  tells  us  in  his  preface,  to  "  an  examination  of  morals, 
politics,  and  criticism."  That  Hume  never  gave  up  this 
plan  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  his  own  development  spoiled 
it,  is  shown  by  his  revision  of  the  Treatise  into  An  Inquiry 
concerning  the  Human  Understanding,  so  that  it  could  be 
made  a  part  of  his  essays  on  morals  and  politics.  He  tried 
to  cut  off  the  overgrown  parts  of  the  Treatise  so  that  the 
unity  and  proportion  of  the  whole  would  not  be  destroyed. 


216  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

We  can,  moreover,  get  at  the  same  results  in  another 
way.  Just  before  the  publication  of  the  Treatise  he 
writes  :  "  I  am  at  present  castigating  my  work  "  by  "  cut- 
ting off  its  nobler  parts "  so  that  "  it  shall  give  as  little 
offence  as  possible."  What  then  are  these  nobler  parts 
which  he  hesitates  to  express?  He  is  evidently  becom- 
ing conscious  that  youthful  enthusiasm  has  led  him  to 
make  some  extravagant  statements.  That  this  pruning 
was  kept  up  as  his  enthusiasm  for  early  ideas  abated  is 
shown  by  a  letter  written  after  the  publication  of  the  In- 
quiry, in  which  he  advises  a  friend  not  to  read  the  Treatise 
because  the  Inquiry  contains  all  its  principles  shortened 
and  simplified. 

By  comparing  the  two  works  we  can  see  what  parts 
have  been  shortened  and  made  simple,  and  what  parts 
have  been  eradicated  or  reduced  because  he  came  to  see 
that  they  were  crude  and  defective.  I  infer  that  the 
same  motives,  leading  him  to  tone  down  the  Treatise  into 
the  Inquiry  influenced  him  in  the  early  castigations  of 
which  he  wrote,  and  that  the  same  parts  were  affected  in 
both  cases.  If  this  inference  is  correct,  the  castigation 
was  applied  to  the  book  on  the  Passions,  and  the  book  on 
the  Understanding  was  being  simplified.  In  the  Inquiry, 
the  part  on  the  Passions  is  a  mere  skeleton  of  its  former 
self,  while  the  part  on  the  Understanding  is,  as  he  says, 
shortened  and  simplified.  It  should  also  be  noticed  that 
in  connection  with  its  defects  and  errors  Hume  always 
speaks  of  the  early  age  at  which  the  Treatise  was  planned 
and  written.  This  shows  not  that  the  whole  book  was 
written  as  early  as  he  states,  but  that  the  parts  of  it  which 
his  maturer  judgment  condemned  were  planned,  if  not 
written,  at  that  date.  He  never  shows  any  sign  of  re- 
pentance for  having  printed  his  ideas  on  cause  and  effect, 
nor  for  any  of  the  doctrines  of  the  understanding  ;  they 
stand  out  more  clearly  with  each  rewriting.  It  must, 
therefore,  have  been  the  doctrines  about  the  passions  that 


THE  MORALISTS  217 

were  written  so  early,  and  for  which  he  has  so  many  times 
expressed  regret. 

In  one  of  the  sections  that  was  evidently  written  at  a 
very  early  date  and  which  escaped  the  castigation  it 
deserved,  additional  light  is  thrown  on  what  the  youthful 
Hume  was  trying  to  do.  I  have  transposed  some  of  the 
sentences  in  order  to  avoid  the  florid  rhetoric.  "  When  I 
look  abroad,  I  foresee  on  every  side  dispute,  contradiction, 
anger,  calumny,  and  detraction."  He  was  evidently  think- 
ing of  the  controversy  Mandeville  started.  "Every  one 
keeps  at  a  distance  and  dreads  that  storm  which  beats  upon 
me  from  every  side.  I  have  exposed  myself  to  the  enmity 
of  all  the  metaphysicians,  logicians,  mathematicians,  and 
even  the  theologians ;  and  I  can  wonder  at  the  insults  I 
must  suffer ;  every  step  I  take  is  with  hesitation,  and  every 
new  reflection  makes  me  dread  an  error  and  absurdity  in 
my  reasoning." 

This  is  the  tone  of  one  who  expects  to  make  startling 
revelations  which  will  excite  universal  condemnation.  All 
the  metaphysicians,  logicians,  and  mathematicians  could 
not  be  aroused  by  any  particular  doctrine,  but  only  by 
something  which  would  attack  the  existence  of  all  current 
doctrines.  The  theologians  come  in  only  secondarily, 
evidently  only  in  so  far  as  they  belong  also  to  one  of  the 
other  classes.  He  must,  therefore,  have  in  mind  some- 
thing more  sweeping  than  his  doctrine  about  miracles  or 
even  that  of  cause  and  effect.  The  former  might  excite 
the  theologians,  but  neither  of  them  would  affect  to  any 
extent  the  other  classes. 

A  glance  at  the  book  on  the  Passions  shows  what  this 
bold  doctrine  was,  and  although  toned  down,  it  is  still,  as 
Hume  admits,  "somewhat  extraordinary."  "Reason,"  he 
says,  "has  no  influence  on  our  passions  and  actions." 
"  Reason  alone  can  never  be  a  motive  to  any  action  of  the 
will."  "Reason  is,  and  ought  only  to  be,  the  slave  of  the 
passions  and  can  never  pretend  to  any  other  office  than  to 


218  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

serve  them."  There  are  many  such  sentences.  What  do 
they  mean  ?  Hume,  it  should  be  remembered,  had  planned 
to  write  on  moral  topics,  using  experimental  methods,  and 
getting  his  data  from  the  conduct  of  men  in  every-day 
life.  Such  methods  and  such  material  make  a  social 
psychologist  of  the  observer.  The  external  stimuli  that 
excite  men  to  action  can  be  seen  and  recorded.  So  also 
can  the  response  in  the  shape  of  motor  reactions  and 
activity.  But  what  happens  within  the  men  observed  by 
the  social  psychologist  cannot  be  seen.  If  this  internal 
activity  can  be  disregarded,  and  the  external  stimuli  can 
be  put  into  causal  relations  with  the  response  in  activity, 
so  that  when  men  are  excited  in  a  given  way  they  respond 
by  given  activities,  then  the  conclusions  of  the  social 
psychologist  are  valuable,  and  his  work  can  have  the 
precision  of  "any  part  of  natural  philosophy."  There 
is,  therefore,  a  strong  temptation  to  ignore  the  internal 
activity  of  men,  or  at  least  to  emphasize  those  sides  of 
human  nature  where  the  response  can  be  most  easily  pre- 
dicted. An  observer  soon  finds  that  the  response  is  most 
regular  in  the  case  of  the  passions,  and  that  these  are 
most  dominant  in  the  type  of  men  called  sensualists. 

These  facts  create  a  temptation  to  call  all  men  sensual- 
ists, and  to  affirm  that  they  are  ruled  by  their  passions,  for 
in  this  way  the  task  of  the  social  psychologist  is  made 
easy.  Mandeville  had  taken  this  short  road  to  success, 
and  affirmed  that  men  were  only  skin,  bones,  and  passions. 
But  this  crude  position  is  controverted  by  the  evidence 
of  self  psychology.  Internal  sensations  and  a  will  come 
between  the  visible  stimulus  and  the  resulting  activity. 
A  wise  observer  usually  admits  this,  but  saves  his 
science  by  denying  the  freedom  of  the  will,  —  a  denial 
which  is  one  of  the  logical  necessities  into  which  the 
thoroughgoing  social  psychologist  is  forced.  Had  Hume 
been  content  to  take  this  position  he  could  have  completed 
his  appointed  task  in  an  approved  manner,  but  his  doc- 


THE  MORALISTS  219 

trines  would  not  have  been  in  the  least  "  extraordinary." 
The  logicians  and  mathematicians  would  have  been  pleased 
with  such  a  position,  and  the  metaphysicians  and  the  theo- 
logians had  already  heard  it  too  often  to  become  excited 
at  hearing  it  again.  The  peculiarity  of  Hume's  posi- 
tion was  the  sweeping  way  in  which  he  proposed  to  establish 
it.  It  was  generally  admitted  that  the  will  was  influenced 
by  reason  and  by  passion.  If  it  were  denied  that  the  reason 
had  any  influence  on  the  will,  then  the  passions  must  domi- 
nate it,  and  the  opponent  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  had 
an  easy  case.  Optimistic  writers  like  Shaftesbury  had 
affirmed  the  opposite  doctrine.  They  assumed  that  man 
was  so  intellectual  that  the  reason  ruled  the  passions  and 
thus  was  master  of  the  whole  man.  In  robbing  reason  of 
the  mastery,  and  making  it  merely  a  slave  of  the  passions, 
Hume  was  setting  the  traditions  of  the  age  at  naught. 
No  wonder  he  expected  general  opposition,  or  that  he  re- 
gretted such  utterances  after  he  had  come  more  fully  into 
touch  with  the  spirit  of  his  age. 

With  this  clue  to  Hume's  development  we  can  picture 
its  stages  with  some  accuracy.  In  the  university,  or  cer- 
tainly very  early,  he  formed  the  plan  of  writing,  from  an 
inductive  standpoint,  a  systematic  treatise  on  social  and 
moral  topics.  At  that  time,  however,  he  was  under  the 
influence  of  the  classic  authors,  and  the  essays  he  wrote 
were  such  as  these  writers  would  naturally  suggest.  We 
probably  have  the  remnants  of  this  scheme  in  the  essays 
on  the  Epicurean,  on  the  Stoic,  and  the  like.  When  he 
came  under  the  influence  of  Mandeville  he  saw  that  ex- 
perimental methods  might  be  applied  in  modern  societies 
much  more  effectively  than  the  material  furnished  by  the 
classics  would  permit.  By  simplifying  the  scheme  of  Man- 
deville and  removing  its  absurdities,  he  was  enabled  to  use 
its  leading  ideas  as  a  basis  for  the  book  on  the  Passions. 
The  phenomena  of  pride  and  humility  thus  secured  a  domi- 
nant place,  while  those  of  sympathy  and  self-interest  were 


220  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

almost  equally  important.  The  problem  of  free  will 
became  pressing  when  Hume  attempted  to  utilize  this 
study  of  Passions  as  an  introduction  to  his  general  scheme. 

It  was  here  that  Hume's  originality  began  to  show  itself. 
He  was  about  to  pass  into  fields  untrodden  by  Mande- 
ville, though  he  got  one  more  lift  from  his  intellectual 
godfather.  Hume  at  this  period  was  ill  and  despondent. 
From  a  letter  to  a  London  physician  we  know  something 
of  his  disease  and  his  mental  attitude.  It  is  often  asserted 
that  this  correspondent  was  Dr.  Cheyne,  by  whom  a  well- 
known  book  on  nervous  diseases  had  been  written.  Man- 
deville  had  also  written  on  this  subject, J  and  if  Hume  was 
interested  in  such  topics  he  was  as  likely  to  run  across 
Mandeville's  book  as  Cheyne's.  Mandeville's  book  was  a 
tirade  against  deductive  physicians,  that  is,  against  those 
who  reason  about  cases  instead  of  following  purely  experi- 
mental methods.  In  this  everything  not  pure  induction 
was  denounced;  the  mathematicians  were  ridiculed  in  Man- 
deville's usual  style.  Such  denunciations  of  physicians  are 
likely  to  impress  a  sick  man  favourably,  especially  after  he 
has  tried  in  vain  a  great  variety  of  nostrums.  It  may 
have  seemed  possible  to  Hume  to  generalize  Mandeville's 
crude  statements  into  the  general  proposition  that  reason 
is  "wholly  inactive"  and  "utterly  impotent."  To  say 
the  least,  there  is  a  resemblance  here  between  Hume's  and 
Mandeville's  positions  similar  to  that  to  be  found  in  other 
parts  of  the  book  on  the  Passions. 

With  Mandeville  it  was  easy  to  strike  off  such  proposi- 
tions, and  then  let  them  drop  ;  but  the  more  logical  Hume 
found  that  his  position  involved  a  series  of  other  doctrines 

1  A  Treatise  on  Hypochondriack  and  Histerick  Passions,  1711.  In 
it  Mandeville  says :  "  What  I  am  against  is  the  speculative  part  of 
Physick.  ...  It  is  the  observations  and  not  the  reasoning  that  consti- 
tute the  Art ;  and  the  latter  is  no  more  necessary  to  physicians  than  the 
false  lights  to  shop-keepers  which  we  know  are  only  contrived  to  make 
their  goods  look  the  better."    p.  60. 


THE  MORALISTS  221 

which  drove  him  into  a  field  he  had  had  no  intention  of 
exploring.  The  product  of  this  development  was  the 
book  on  the  Understanding,  the  evolution  of  whose  cen- 
tral doctrine,  that  of  cause  and  effect,  was  slow,  the  end 
having  been  reached  only  after  much  groping  in  the  dark. 
During  his  sojourn  in  France,  the  turning-point  in  his 
thought  was  reached  in  a  discussion  on  miracles.  At  this 
point,  a  particular  proposition  developed  in  connection 
with  the  study  of  the  passions  was  converted  into  a  general 
one.  In  order  that  moral  and  social  problems  might  be 
free  from  that  uncertainty  which  resulted  from  the  admis- 
sion that  internal  states  influence  the  action  of  men, 
Hume  had  denied  that  reason  influences  the  will.  The 
social  psychologist  can  see  the  causes  that  stimulate  men 
to  activity  and  the  results  that  follow.  If  the  relation  of 
cause  and  effect  exists  between  these  two  classes  of  phe- 
nomena, morals  becomes  an  exact  science. 

This  particular  proposition,  devised  to  meet  the  needs  of 
moral  science,  can  be  made  a  general  proposition  by  deny- 
ing the  influence  of  any  unseen  or  secret  powers  in  the 
case  of  any  phenomenon.  Causes  are  observed  and  so  are 
effects.  What  binds  them  together  ?  The  usual  reply  is 
that  they  are  held  together  by  unseen  forces.  But  if 
reason  can  be  set  aside  and  man's  actions  predicted  from 
the  motor  stimuli,  why  cannot  the  Author  of  the  universe 
and  the  unseen  powers  and  forces  that  are  supposed  to 
reside  in  matter  be  also  ignored  ?  Cause  and  effect  would 
then  follow  one  another  in  regular  order,  but  with  no 
unseen  connection.  In  this  way  we  get  a  sweeping  prop- 
osition, to  which  the  absurdity  or  impossibility  of  mir- 
acles is  a  corollary.  Hume  might  well  flatter  himself  that 
through  this  generalization  he  had  given  "  an  everlasting 
check  to  all  kinds  of  superstitious  delusions."  If  the 
influence  of  the  unseen  world  was  to  be  ignored  just  as 
reason  had  been,  certainly  the  whole  basis  of  superstition 
was  destroyed.     Hume's  use  of  social  terms  in  describing 


222  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

the  doctrine  of  cause  and  effect  shows  that  it  was  derived 
from  the  more  special  doctrine  about  the  dominance  of 
the  passions  in  men's  activities.  While  Hume  general- 
ized his  proposition,  he  did  not  generalize  his  language. 
Before  his  time,  the  words  "custom"  and  "habit"  were 
used  only  in  a  social  sense.  Such  terms  would  never  have 
occurred  to  him  if  he  had  not  been  enlarging  a  proposition 
which  had  first  become  apparent  in  the  social  sciences. 
What  he  really  affirmed  was,  that  a  principle  of  human 
nature  created  for  social  ends  has  become  so  pronounced 
and  so  general  in  its  effects  that  it  compels  us  to  use  the 
categories  of  social  phenomena  when  we  are  thinking  of 
non-social  events.  Custom  and  habit  thus  rose  to  the 
character  of  universal  laws. 

Another  indication  that  Hume's  starting-point  was 
social  is  the  use  of  the  phrase  "association  of  ideas." 
When  he  denied  that  reason  affects  activity,  the  world  of 
ideas  lost  its  direct  connection  with  the  world  of  activ- 
ity. There  might  be  a  parallelism  but  no  causal  relations. 
Unless  some  new  relation  could  be  found  between  ideas 
and  actions,  philosophy  would  be  a  chaos.  Order  was 
restored  by  thinking  of  ideas  in  the  same  terms  as  those 
used  in  thinking  of  men.  The  units  of  the  mental  world 
were  thought  of  as  associating  with  one  another  and  as 
forming  binding  relations  just  as  men  do  in  the  external 
world.  In  this  way  the  laws  of  the  mental  world,  the 
physical  world,  and  the  social  world  were  reduced  to 
common  terms.  Custom  was  thought  of  as  the  ruling 
element  everywhere,  or  at  least  this  one  trait  of  human 
nature  dominated  all  other  concepts  of  the  three  worlds 
and  forced  them  to  run  in  the  same  grooves. 

When  Hume's  attention  was  diverted  from  the  passions 
to  the  more  general  proposition  about  cause  and  effect,  he 
was  compelled  to  divide  the  original  essay  into  two  parts. 
He  became  conscious  that  many  of  the  propositions  he 
was   discussing   belonged    more   properly   to  the  under- 


THE   MORALISTS  223 

standing  than  to  the  passions.  The  book  on  the  Under- 
standing is  an  overgrown  preface  into  which  Hume  threw 
the  material  for  which  he  found  no  place  in  the  book  on 
the  Passions.  In  the  latter  parts  of  the  new  book,  which 
were  evidently  written  first,  he  is  more  sceptical  and  less 
definite,  and  thus  has  a  tone  more  in  harmony  with  that 
of  the  book  on  the  Passions.  Hume  is  not  moving  toward 
scepticism,  but  away  from  it,  and  the  latter  part  of  the  book 
on  the  Understanding  would  not  have  been  written  as  it 
was  if  he  had  already  had  the  ideas  in  as  clear  a  form  as 
they  are  expressed  at  the  beginning  of  the  book.  He  has 
evidently  reversed  the  order  in  which  the  parts  of  the 
book  were  thought  out.  In  Part  Four  he  says  that  all 
knowledge  resolves  itself  into  probability.  This  is  the  first 
step  out  of  the  general  scepticism  of  the  book  on  the  Pas- 
sions, where  he  says  that  the  reason  is  "  utterly  impotent." 
Bishop  Butler  had  just  published  his  Evidences  of  Christi- 
anity, in  which  probability  is  made  the  basis  of  all  reason- 
ing. Hume  had  evidently  been  reading  this  work,  and 
under  its  influence  he  took  the  upward  step  away  from 
the  general  scepticism  of  Mandeville.  In  Section  Eleven 
of  Part  Three  another  important  advance  is  made.  He 
now  assigns  reason  to  three  fields :  knowledge,  proofs, 
and  probabilities.  But  he  hedges  a  little,  and  implies  that 
after  all  the  first  two  are  kinds  of  probabilities.  His  scep- 
ticism is  not  cured  until  he  writes  the  First  Section  of  the 
Third  Part.  Here  he  boldly  contrasts  knowledge  with 
probability,  and  at  last  modifies  the  title  of  the  part  so  as 
to  make  it  no  longer  a  discussion  of  probability  alone,  but 
of  knowledge  and  probability.  Algebra  and  arithmetic 
now  become  exact  sciences,  with  the  claims  of  reasoning 
perfect,  but  of  geometrical  reasoning  he  remains  sceptical 
until  he  writes  the  Inquiry.  In  it  geometry  becomes  a 
science,  every  affirmation  of  which  is  "either  intuitively 
or  demonstratively  certain."  Propositions  of  this  kind 
are  discoverable,  he  says,  by  a  mere  operation  of  thought, 


224  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

without  dependence  on  what  is  actually  existent  in  the  uni- 
verse. Though  there  never  were  a  circle  or  a  triangle 
in  nature,  the  truths  demonstrated  by  Euclid  would  for- 
ever retain  their  certainty  and  their  evidence.  Surely 
Hume  had  at  this  stage  no  reason  to  fear  the  enmity  of 
the  metaphysicians,  logicians,  or  mathematicians.  Reason 
had  finally  secured  a  place  from  which  it  could  not  be 
dislodged.  Hume  looked  on  it  as  a  mild  passion  which 
controlled  men  when  they  were  not  under  the  influence  of 
some  dominant  motive. 

It  is  only  in  Part  Second  of  the  book  on  the  Under- 
standing that  the  influence  of  Hume's  predecessors 
becomes  apparent ;  in  it  he  discusses  propositions  foreign 
to  his  original  scheme.  He  recognized  at  length  that 
this  part  was  out  of  harmony  with  the  rest  of  his  work, 
and  did  not  insert  it  in  the  Inquiry.  Part  First  is 
mainly  made  up  of  material  taken  from  the  book  on 
the  Passions.  When  he  began  to  cut  down  this  book 
he  transferred  to  the  beginning  of  the  other  the  proposi- 
tions which  had  become  too  general  to  be  limited  in 
their  application  to  a  discussion  of  the  passions.  His  in- 
terest was  thus  centred  more  and  more  in  the  Understand- 
ing, and  the  book  on  the  Passions  was  gradually  reduced 
in  size  either  by  omissions  or  by  transferring  its  material 
to  the  first  book,  until  it  became  a  mere  shadow  of  its 
former  self.  In  the  Inquiry  it  would  doubtless  have  been 
omitted  if  Hume  had  not  still  clung  to  the  notion  that 
the  passions  were  subject  to  laws  quite  as  apparent  as 
those  of  the  physical  world.  By  this  time  he  had,  how- 
ever, lost  all  sympathy  with  the  sensualism  of  Mandeville, 
and  he  bitterly  regretted  the  youthful  ardour  that  had  led 
him  to  express  notions  so  opposed,  not  only  to  common 
sense,  but  to  the  spirit  of  his  age.  The  spirit  was  rational, 
and  too  strong  for  Hume  to  resist.  The  more  he  came 
in  contact  with  his  contemporaries,  the  more  did  he  accept 
their  tone  and  method,  until  at  last  in  his  history  he  lost 


THE  MORALISTS  225 

himself  in  current  topics,  and  the  controversies  involved 
in  them.  His  original  plan  was  a  complete  failure  because 
he  found  it  impossible  to  move  forward  on  its  lines.  On 
his  upward  curve  he  became  too  abstract  to  be  of  service 
to  English  thought,  and  on  his  downward  curve  he  became 
a  mere  Tory. 

Judged  from  this  standpoint,  Hume's  philosophical  de- 
velopment was  composed  of  four  stages,  and  for  each  there 
is  an  edition  of  his  Treatise.  At  Ninewells  he  made  a 
start,  but  of  this  edition  the  only  extant  fragments  are 
a  few  essays  that  show  the  impress  of  the  classic  authors 
he  was  fond  of  reading.  The  book  on  the  Passions  is  the 
second  edition  somewhat  abridged;  that  on  the  Under- 
standing is  the  third,  and  the  Inquiry  is  the  fourth.  At 
the  start  Hume  combined  the  sensualism  of  Mandeville 
and  the  scepticism  of  his  favourite  classical  authors.  Out 
of  this  condition  he  gradually  arose  until  in  the  end  he 
was  able  to  give  over  to  Kant  a  definite  problem  to  solve. 
It  is  not  correct  to  assume  that  Kant  studied  Hume's  doc- 
trine in  its  original  form  in  the  Treatise.  In  this  work  the 
contrasts  are  not  sharp  enough  to  stimulate  an  opponent. 
The  clearest  expression  of  the  ideas  to  which  Hume  had 
then  attained  are  at  the  beginning  of  Part  Third  of  the 
Understanding,  and  here  he  recognizes  "seven  different 
kinds  of  philosophical  relation."  Only  in  the  Inquiry 
has  he  arrived  at  a  settled  position  capable  of  being 
clearly  stated.  He  now  divides  objects  of  human  inquiry 
into  two  classes  :  Relations  of  Ideas  and  Matters  of  Fact. 
The  knowledge  of  the  one  is  derived  from  reason,  that  of 
the  other  comes  from  experience.  From  these  clear  state- 
ments Kant  easily  got  his  point  of  departure,  and  contin- 
ued to  its  legitimate  end  the  upward  curve  on  which 
Hume  started.  Here,  however,  we  must  break  off  our 
discussion.  Kant's  development  and  influence  lie  outside 
English  thought,  and  to  discuss  them  is  beyond  the  scope 
of  the  present  work. 


226  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

The  work  of  Adam  Smith  follows  so  closely  after  that 
of  Hume  that  it  may  be  called  part  of  the  same  scheme. 
What  Hume  failed  to  do  because  he  was  diverted  from 
his  main  thought  by  encountering  philosophical  difficulties, 
Smith  accomplished,  although  he  did  not  carry  out  his  plan 
in  full.  As  a  result  political  economy  obtained  a  recog- 
nized place,  and  through  its  influence  the  whole  group  of 
social  sciences  became  distinct  objects  of  inquiry,  and  were 
thus  isolated  from  other  branches  of  learning  with  which 
they  had  been  confused.  The  evolution  of  Smith  is  more 
easily  traced  than  that  of  Hume,  for  it  proceeded  more 
slowly,  and  was  due  more  largely  to  the  objective  con- 
ditions that  surrounded  him.  Hume's  evolution  was  sub- 
jective, and  ran  its  course  rapidly  and  quite  independently 
of  events  and  persons.  Smith,  however,  had  gone  through 
the  main  stages  of  his  mental  development  before  he  began 
his  great  book.1  He  entered  upon  this  work  with  fixed 
ideas,  and  was  seeking  to  give  them  a  concrete  expression 
by  illustrations  from  the  world  about  him.  Hume  read 
before  he  wrote,  and  thought  while  he  wrote ;  Smith 
thought  before  he  wrote,  reading  and  observing  as  he 
wrote.  These  facts  make  Hume's  environment  of  little 
importance  to  him,  while  to  Smith  his  environment  was 
of  the  greatest  importance. 

In  harmony  with  this  interpretation  of  development,  I 

1  The  Wealth  of  Nations  appeared  in  1776 ;  Smith's  first  book,  the 
Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments,  was  published  in  1759.  At  that  time  he 
was  professor  of  moral  philosophy  in  the  University  of  Glasgow,  but  he 
gave  up  this  position  in  1764  to  travel  abroad  with  a  private  pupil.  He 
returned  in  1766,  and  spent  the  next  ten  years  in  private  study  at  Kirk- 
caldy, near  Edinburgh.  While  in  France  he  met  the  Physiocrats,  whose 
doctrines  were  beginning  to  attract  attention.  The  lectures  on  Justice, 
Police,  Revenue,  and  Arms  were  first  published  by  Mr.  Edwin  Cannan  in 
1896.  They  are  the  notes  of  a  student  who  heard  Smith's  lectures  just 
before  he  left  Glasgow.  They  are  of  value  mainly  because  they  show 
what  Smith's  opinions  were  before  he  came  in  contact  with  the  Physiocrats 
and  other  later  influences  that  made  the  Wealth  of  Nations  assume  the 
form  it  did. 


THE   MORALISTS  227 

express  the  opinion  in  advance  that  the  doctrines  found  in 
the  Wealth  of  Nations  are  not  original  with  Adam  Smith. 
They  are  to  be  found  in  earlier  writers,  by  whom  in  many 
cases  they  are  better  stated  than  by  Smith.  His  original- 
ity consisted  in  bringing  a  mass  of  isolated  doctrines  and 
facts  into  harmony  with  his  own  ideas,  and  in  making 
them  contribute  to  the  ends  he  had  in  view. 

There  was  a  school  of  political  economy  antecedent  to 
the  work  of  Smith,  but  its  merits  were  not  recognized 
because  of  the  isolated  way  in  which  the  discussions  of 
different  problems  had  been  carried  on.  The  oldest  por- 
tion of  economic  science  related  to  money  and  trade. 
Quite  apart  from  these  was  a  series  of  valuable  discus- 
sions on  the  industrial  condition  of  England.  The 
finances  of  the  nation,  and  the  causes  of  the  relative 
strength  of  England  and  her  rivals  formed  another  dis- 
tinct group  of  problems.  In  addition  to  these,  problems 
relating  to  the  improvement  of  land  had  received  much 
attention.  It  is  often  forgotten  how  important  were  the 
agricultural  changes  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  how 
much  more  attention  they  attracted  at  the  time  than  did 
the  industrial  changes  that  we  now  emphasize.  Eighteenth- 
century  writers  did  not  recognize  the  industrial  revolu- 
tion, although  they  were  aware  of  the  great  agricultural 
changes  of  the  period.  This  fact  made  the  literature  on 
the  land  problems  of  much  more  importance  to  Smith  than 
that  on  the  industrial  situation. 

Of  prime  importance  to  Smith  were  the  discussions 
started  by  Mandeville,  and  continued  by  Hume,  Hutche- 
son,  and  other  moralists.  Smith's  first  work  lay  in  this 
field,  and  from  it  came  the  doctrines  about  human  nature 
which  became  the  backbone  of  subsequent  economics. 
Before  Smith's  time  economic  discussions  had  been  ephem- 
eral, because  the  topics  and  events  exciting  them  were 
always  changing,  and  each  new  topic  seemed  to  demand 
a  new  treatment.     As  long  as  public  interest  was  centred 


228  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

in  the  events  of  the  day,  there  were  no  net  results ;  but 
when  it  was  recognized  that  the  same  human  nature  oper- 
ated in  all  these  events  the  presence  of  relating  principles 
was  recognized.  The  work  of  Adam  Smith  consisted  pre- 
eminently in  taking  these  principles  of  human  nature  out 
of  their  moral  setting,  and  making  them  do  service  in  the 
realm  of  economics.  He  robbed  morals  of  much  of  its 
traditional  field  by  limiting  its  scope  to  the  manifestations 
of  sympathy,  but  this  loss  to  morals  was  more  than  offset 
by  the  clear  way  in  which  the  other  principles  of  human 
nature  were  applied  in  economic  discussions.  Self-interest 
was  now  put  into  a  field  where  its  merits  could  be  recog- 
nized. 

In  saying  that  Smith's  doctrines  did  not  originate  with 
him,  I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  he  obtained  them  from 
any  one  source,  or  even  from  any  one  school  or  group  of 
thinkers.  There  is  a  strong  tendency  to  associate  him 
with  the  Physiocrats,  as  if  he  were  inspired  by  them  and 
owed  to  them  the  fundamental  concepts  of  his  book.  But 
his  recently  published  Lectures,  which  were  delivered 
before  his  trip  to  France,  show  that  many  of  his  ideas 
had  been  acquired  before  he  became  acquainted  with 
the  Physiocrats.  It  is  natural,  however,  to  assume  that 
ideas  acquired  after  his  departure  from  Glasgow  were 
due  to  French  influence,  and  this  is  the  opinion  of  many 
readers  of  the  recently  published  Lectures.  Although  I 
admit  that  there  is  much  to  be  said  in  its  favour  I  cannot 
accept  this  judgment.  The  Lectures  show  that  at  the 
time  they  were  given  Smith  was  still  a  moralist  and 
viewed  economic  topics  as  part  of  a  larger  field.  The 
one  economic  doctrine  that  he  had  clearly  in  mind  is  the 
connection  between  cheapness  and  plenty.  This  is  dis- 
cussed under  the  general  heading  of  Police,  and  shows 
that  he  was  primarily  not  interested  in  industry,  but  in 
its  regulation.  This  interest  arose  from  a  desire  to 
emphasize   the   importance   of   the   principles  of   human 


THE  MORALISTS  229 

nature.  He  believed  that  these  principles  sufficed  to 
direct  human  emergies  in  the  right  channels,  and  that 
the  government  never  could  improve  upon  their  dictates. 

If  an  English  economist  of  that  day  had  gone  to  France, 
any  change  in  his  views  we  might  reasonably  attribute  to 
French  influence ;  but  we  have  no  reason  to  believe  that 
Smith  was  familiar  with  English  economics,  or  that  he 
recognized  its  importance.  What,  then,  we  must  ask,  did 
he  learn  not  only  from  the  French,  but  also  from  the  Eng- 
lish? In  the  Moral  Sentiments  published  before  going 
abroad,  he  had  said  that  "  the  two  useful  parts  of  moral 
philosophy  are  ethics  and  jurisprudence."  He  promises 
a  new  work,  not  on  economics,  but  on  "  the  general  prin- 
ciples of  law  and  government,"  in  which  he  proposes  to 
treat  of  "  justice,  police,  revenue,  and  arms,  and  whatever 
else  is  the  object  of  law." 

In  this  programme  there  is  only  one  point  —  revenue  — 
that  he  has  in  common  with  the  Physiocrats,  and  it  is  this 
common  interest  that  seems  to  have  bound  him  to  them. 
What  knowledge  we  have  of  his  intercourse  with  them 
shows  that  it  was  confined  mainly  to  discussion  of  practi- 
cal affairs.  There  is  nothing  to  prove  that  Smith  had 
any  concern  in  the  general  Physiocratic  theories,  or  even 
that  he  troubled  himself  to  understand  them.  The  French 
influence  is  visible  enough  in  Smith's  fifth  book  on  revenue, 
and  much  of  it  may  have  been  planned,  if  not  written, 
while  in  France.  But  his  theories  come  from  another 
source,  and  demand  another  explanation. 

Smith  was  not  the  only  Englishman  who  failed  to 
understand  or  to  appreciate  the  Physiocratic  theories. 
As  late  as  1769  Hume  in  writing  to  Morellet  forcibly 
denounces  these  doctrines.1  And  Hume  surely  was  in  a 
better  position  to  understand  them  than  Smith.  The 
same  lack  of  appreciation  is  to  be  found  in  the  writings 

1  Burton's  Life  of  Hume,  Vol.  II,  p.  427. 


230  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  Arthur  Young,  who  goes  so  far  as  to  formulate  the 
reasons  for  his  opposition  under  definite  heads.1 

These  writers  imply,  if  they  do  not  openly  assert,  that 
the  Physiocrats  are  merely  reviving  certain  exploded  doc- 
trines of  earlier  English  writers.  Young,  for  example,  says 
that  the  single  tax  is  "  no  idea  of  their  own,  but  which  is 
borrowed  from  English  writers,  from  Locke,  Decker,  etc. "  2 
There  is  also  reason  to  believe  that  the  distinction  be- 
tween productive  and  sterile  was  derived  from  English 
sources.  In  an  anonymous  Discourse  on  Trade,  dated 
1704,  the  thought  is  expressed  by  the  word,  "  adiapho- 
rous." The  writer  divides  trade  into  three  classes :  first, 
that  which  enriches  a  nation  because  the  exports  exceed 
the  imports  ;  second,  that  which  neither  enriches  nor  im- 
poverishes because  the  exports  and  imports  are  equal  ; 
and  third,  that  which  is  disadvantageous  because  the 
imports  exceed  the  exports.  He  calls  the  second  class, 
"  adiaphorous,"  and  says  that  it  is  of  great  use  to  indi- 
viduals, but  of  no  real  benefit  to  the  nation.  Here  at  least 
is  the  same  distinction  which  the  Physiocrats  drew. 
Being  consistent  free  traders,  they  threw  out  the  third 
class,  and  applied  the  doctrine  to  internal  as  well  as 
external  trade. 

When  the  issue  is  understood,  the  reason  for  this  oppo- 
sition to  the  Physiocrats  becomes  plain.  The  English 
moralists  were  emphasizing  the  principles  of  human  nat- 
ure, and  were  opposed  to  every  attempt  to  make  man 
subordinate  to  or  dependent  upon  his  environment. 
Hume's  position  on  this  matter  is  very  pronounced,  and 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  Smith  heartily  agreed 
with  him. 

In  his  essay  on  National  Characters,  Hume  asserts  that 
"  Physical  causes  have  no  discernible  operation  on  the 
human  mind. "     Nor  does  he  think  that  "  men  owe  any- 

1  Political  Arithmetic,  p.  254.  '2  Political  Arithmetic,  p.  210. 


THE   MORALISTS  231 

thing  of  their  temper  or  genius  to  the  air,  food,  or  cli- 
mate." In  equally  strong  terms  he  asserts  that  "  if  we 
run  over  the  globe  or  revolve  the  annals  of  history,  we 
shall  discover  everywhere  signs  of  a  sympathy  or  conta- 
gion of  manners,  none  of  the  influence  of  air,  or  climate." 
These  doctrines  are  in  marked  contrast  to  the  concept 
of  environment  which  was  coming  to  the  front  in  France 
under  the  influence  of  Montesquieu.  Doctrines  giving 
dominant  place  to  the  environment  were  as  popular  in 
France  as  they  were  disliked  in  England.  Smith  shared 
in  the  dislike,  and  was  therefore  not  in  a  mood  to  be  in- 
fluenced by  the  opposing  school.  The  doctrine  that  the 
net  surplus  of  society  comes  from  land  alone,  and  is  due 
to  the  action  of  nature  and  not  to  men,  struck  at  the  very 
root  of  Smith's  philosophy,  and  when  in  addition  it  was 
asserted  that  men  unaided  by  nature  are  sterile,  a  group 
of  doctrines  more  repugnant  to  Smith  could  not  have 
been  devised.  Of  what  account  would  studies  in  human 
nature  be  if  man  were  so  impotent  ? 

We  are  prone  to  misunderstand  Smith  because  his  doc- 
trines are  so  closely  associated  with  those  of  Malthus  and 
Ricardo.  These  successors  of  Smith  brought  in  ideas  of 
environment  and  gave  them  a  prominent  place;  but  there 
is  every  reason  to  believe  that  if  Smith  had  been  alive 
he  would  have  opposed  the  doctrines  of  his  disciples. 
His  treatment  of  Anderson,  who  first  announced  the 
theory  of  rent,  shows  that  Smith  disregarded,  or  opposed, 
all  attempts  to  emphasize  physical  causes.  The  material 
on  which  the  Malthusian  law  of  population  is  based  was 
as  well  known  in  Smith's  time  as  in  the  following  age. 
But  the  opposition  to  all  views  involving  the  assumption 
that  men  are  influenced  by  "  air,  food,  or  climate  "  pre- 
vented the  formulation  of  the  law. 

These  facts  show  in  what  respects  Smith  was  open  to 
French  influence,  and  in  what  respects  he  was  not.  From 
the  Physiocrats  and  from  his  own  observations  in  Franco 


232  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

he  obtained  a  fund  of  information  about  the  economic  con- 
dition of  France,  and  he  returned  home  with  a  heightened 
interest  in  all  practical  affairs.  These  new  impulses 
doubtless  started  him  along  the  road  to  economics,  but  it 
takes  a  long  and  painful  evolution  to  transform  a  moralist 
into  an  economist.  Smith  did  finally  come  over,  but  he 
was  nobody's  convert.  He  became  an  economist  by  acci- 
dent, not  by  design. 

There  is  a  popular  notion  that  the  Wealth  of  Nations 
was  planned  and  largely  written  while  Smith  was  in 
France.  It  is  assumed  that  when  he  speaks  of  being  at 
work  on  a  book,  he  is  referring  to  the  Wealth  of  Nations. 
The  Lectures  at  Glasgow  show,  however,  that  his  economics 
were  firmly  imbedded  in  his  theory  of  jurisprudence,  of 
which  they  were  but  a  minor  part.  It  must  have  been 
only  after  a  long,  steady  development  that  he  acquired  a 
mental  attitude  which  permitted  these  two  topics  to  be 
separated.  In  the  meantime,  he  would  naturally  have 
collected  material  and  written  on  both  topics.  The 
manuscript  of  the  book  on  jurisprudence,  destroyed  be- 
fore his  death,  was  doubtless  begun  in  France  and  com- 
pleted during  the  first  years  after  his  return  to  Scotland. 
There  is  no  indication  that  Smith  underwent  any  revo- 
lution of  ideas  that  would  have  broken  up  his  first  plan  of 
a  general  treatise  on  law  and  government.  It  was  only 
the  steady  accumulation  of  material  and  the  opening  up 
of  new  topics  of  interest  that  in  the  end  compelled  him 
to  lay  aside  his  legal  studies  and  to  confine  himself  to 
economics.  We  must  search,  therefore,  in  the  period  sub- 
sequent to  his  return  to  Scotland  for  the  epoch-making 
events  that  transformed  him  into  an  economist.  The 
Wealth  of  Nations  must  have  been  shaped  by  the  current 
events  in  England,  or  at  least  by  those  events  in  which 
Smith  acquired  an  interest  after  his  return.  Of  these  the 
discussions  about  the  improvement  of  land  and  the  rising 
price  of  food  deserve  a  first  place.     The  increase  in  the 


THE   MORALISTS  233 

price  of  food  first  attracted  attention  after  the  short  crop 
of  1757,  and  during  the  next  fifteen  years  was  the  source 
of  a  long  series  of  pamphlets.  Many  of  Smith's  chapters 
show  the  influence  of  this  protracted  controversy.  The 
social  philosophy  of  the  classical  economists  is  largely 
based  on  the  steady  rise  in  the  price  of  food.  Had  Smith 
planned  and  written  his  book  in  France,  or  even  soon  after 
his  return,  he  would  not  have  seen  the  importance  of  these 
fresh  facts.  There  is  also  no  reason  to  suppose  that  until 
after  his  departure  from  Glasgow  he  knew  much  of  the 
great  transformations  in  English  agriculture.  Scottish 
agriculture  had  not  yet  been  improved.  A  Scotchman 
could  find  as  much  that  was  new  in  England  as  in  France. 

These  English  facts  and  discussions  were  the  common 
source  from  which  both  Smith  and  the  Physiocrats  drew 
their  material.  When  the  original  sources  of  information 
were  so  ready  at  hand  there  was  no  reason  why  Smith 
should  study  English  events  and  ideas  through  the  Physio- 
crats. The  difference  between  him  and  them  was  not 
in  the  material  used,  but  in  the  fact  that  they  centred 
their  political  economy  around  the  land  problem,  while  he 
made  the  principles  of  human  nature  the  centre  of  his  dis- 
cussions. He  succeeded  better  than  they,  because  more 
problems  of  the  day  could  be  explained  by  the  principles 
of  human  nature  than  by  the  influence  of  the  environment. 
Had  the  Physiocrats  lived  a  generation  later,  with  its  new 
facts  and  events,  they  could  have  held  their  own  against 
Smith,  and  perhaps  could  have  got  the  better  of  him. 

The  way  in  which  the  Wealth  of  Nations  was  con- 
structed is  now  evident.  Smith's  Lectures  are  made  up 
mainly  of  what  becomes  in  the  Wealth  of  Nations  the  first 
part  of  Book  I.,  on  the  division  of  labour  as  the  cause  of 
cheapness  and  plenty ;  and  of  Book  V.,  on  revenue. 
These  two  parts  were  closely  associated  in  Smith's  mind, 
and  it  is  not  likely  that  they  were  separated  without  great 
effort  and  much  hard  thinking.     Doubtless  his  increased 


234  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

interest  in  practical  affairs  led  him  at  first  to  expand  these 
parts  by  inserting  those  digressions  of  which  he  was  fond. 
In  this  way  the  greater  part  of  the  Wealth  of  Nations  could 
have  been  written  without  any  change  in  its  plan.  There 
was  a  time,  I  think,  when  the  work  was  not  divided  into 
books.  That  part  which  is  now  Book  IV.,  on  the  "  Sys- 
tems of  Political  Economy,"  was  then  merely  an  introduc- 
tion to  the  body  of  the  work.  It  has  always  seemed  odd 
to  me  that  the  history  of  political  economy  should  be  in- 
serted in  the  middle  of  the  treatise,  but  the  Lectures 
reveal  the  probable  cause  of  this  arrangement.  The  men- 
tal development  that  enabled  Smith  to  separate  the  theory 
of  production  and  distribution  from  the  practical  discus- 
sions about  revenue  came  after  the  book  had  been  once 
written  ;  and  when  the  division  came  he  preferred  to 
keep  the  history  beside  the  practical  part.  The  theoreti- 
cal part  was  too  new  to  need  any  history. 

This  reconstruction,  in  my  opinion,  came  very  late. 
If  the  book  had  appeared  in  1770,  when  there  were  reports 
that  it  was  ready  for  the  press,  I  doubt  if  it  would  have 
resembled  in  form  the  book  that  finally  appeared.  There 
would  probably  have  been  a  long,  overgrown  introduction 
discussing  the  theories  of  earlier  economists,  while  the 
body  of  the  work  would  have  contained  all  his  facts  about 
present  economic  problems.  Nine-tenths  of  the  Wealth  of 
Nations  could  have  been  written  before  the  final  trans- 
formation took  place.  Much  of  the  first  two  books  was 
evidently  used  first  in  some  other  connection,  from  which 
it  was  torn  in  the  final  reconstruction.  When  the  right 
ideas  came,  Smith  need  not  have  written  fifty  pages  of 
new  matter  to  put  the  book  into  its  present  form. 

Smith's  theorizing  falls  into  two  distinct  periods.  The 
one  about  the  division  of  labour,  cheapness,  and  free  trade 
was  thought  out  when  the  Lectures  were  written;  the 
other,  about  capital  and  distribution,  was  among  the 
latest  additions  to  the  Wealth  of  Nations.     Between  these 


THE   MORALISTS  235 

two  periods  a  long  interval  elapsed  during  which  Smith  was 
engaged  in  collecting  material  on  practical  affairs.  The 
problem  for  interpretation  is  to  discover  what  started  this 
second  epoch  of  reasoning.  The  discussion  of  capital  ought 
logically  to  have  preceded  that  of  the  division  of  labour 
and  kindred  topics.  The  fact  that  capital  is  second  in 
order  of  treatment  shows  that  it  was  thought  out  later 
than  the  other.  This  the  Lectures  show  us  to  have  been 
the  case.  The  same  evidence  will  also  show  that  in  the 
book  on  Stock  the  third  chapter,  on  Productive  Labour, 
was  written  after  the  first  two  chapters.  This  arrange- 
ment should  have  been  reversed  as  was  done  in  John 
Stuart  Mill's  Political  Economy. 

If  Smith  had  taken  his  ideas  on  capital  and  distribution 
bodily  from  the  Physiocrats,  he  would  naturally  have  stated 
them  in  the  order  in  which  they  have  been  placed  by  subse- 
quent economists.  We  must  assume,  therefore,  what  other 
evidence  seems  to  prove,  that  these  ideas  were  acquired,  not 
as  he  was  beginning  to  write,  but  just  before  the  book  was 
printed.  They  were  patched  on  to  the  rest  of  the  book, 
but  not  coordinated  with  it.  To  account  for  these  addi- 
tions, we  must  look  to  events  later  than  Smith's  visit  to 
France. 

The  starting-point  of  the  change  is  to  be  found  in  the 
commercial  crisis  of  1772.  The  Duke  of  Buccleuch  was 
largely  interested  in  one  of  the  failing  banks,  and  he 
seems  to  have  made  his  former  tutor,  Adam  Smith,  one  of 
his  advisers  in  settling  up  the  bank's  business.1  The 
knowledge  thus  acquired  of  banking,  money,  and  capital 
Smith  put  to  a  practical  account.  This  particular  bank 
had  been  started  for  the  purpose  of  promoting  improve- 
ments, but  its  founders'  false  notions  on  financial  topics 
soon  involved  the  bank  in  difficulties  and  finally  caused 
great  losses.     The  study  of  the  affairs  of  this  bank  forced 

1  Rae's  Life  of  Adam  Smith,  p.  255. 


236  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

home  on  Smith  the  difference  between  capital  and  money. 
Money  can  circulate  goods,  but  capital  alone  can  start  pro- 
ductive enterprises.  Public-spirited  dukes  may  lend  their 
names  and  their  credit  to  new  undertakings,  but  they  cannot 
promote  enterprises  except  by  their  frugality.  Scotland  can 
become  prosperous  only  by  saving  and  parsimony.  These 
facts  were  plainly  in  Smith's  mind  when  he  wrote  the  first 
two  chapters  of  the  Second  Book  on  Stock,  and  he  often  re- 
fers to  them  for  illustrations.  His  love  of  Scotland  and  his 
interest  in  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  had  turned  his  thoughts 
in  a  new  direction. 

This  same  patriotism  was  the  starting-point  of  another, 
even  more  important  discussion.  Hume  in  his  history  had 
expressed  the  opinion  that  a  poor  nation  with  cheap  food 
and  labour  can  supplant  its  richer  competitors  for  trade. 
It  was  a  common  notion  that  rich  nations  were  ruined  by 
their  trade  with  their  poorer  rivals,  and  that  when  the 
poor  countries  become  wealthy  they  in  turn  would  be  dis- 
placed by  newer  nations  who  were  yet  poor.  Such  con- 
cepts fell  in  with  the  accepted  belief  that  nations  rose, 
came  to  maturity,  and  finally  decayed  because  of  old  age. 
The  use  that  Hume  made  of  this  doctrine  aroused  the  op- 
position of  Dean  Tucker  and  led  to  a  protracted  discus- 
sion.1 Tucker  revolted  against  the  notion  that  "trade 
and  manufactures,  if  left  at  full  liberty,  will  always  de- 
scend from  a  richer  to  a  poorer  state  as  a  stream  of  water 
falls  from  higher  to  lower  ground."  The  law  is  not  in 
harmony  with  the  divine  plan  by  which  all  things  work 
together    for    the     continuous     progress    of     the    race.2 

1  See  Tucker's  Four  Tracts  on  Political  and  Commercial  Subjects. 

2  "  Can  you  suppose  that  Divine  Providence  has  really  constituted  the 
order  of  things  in  such  a  sort,  as  to  make  the  rule  of  national  self-preser- 
vation to  he  inconsistent  with  the  fundamental  principle  of  universal 
benevolence,  and  the  doing  as  we  are  done  by  ?  For  my  part,  I  must  con- 
fess, I  never  could  conceive  that  an  all-wise,  just,  and  benevolent  Being 
would  so  contrive  one  part  of  his  plan  to  be  so  contradictory  to  the  other 
as  here  supposed."  —  Tucker's  First  Tract. 


THE  MORALISTS  237 

Tucker  asserted  that  "  a  poor  country  where  raw  material 
and  provisions  are  cheap  and  wages  low  could  not  sup- 
plant the  trade  of  a  rich  manufacturing  country  where 
raw  material  and  provisions  are  dear,  and  the  price  of 
labour  high."  In  proof  of  this  proposition  he  showed  that 
the  advantages  of  an  abundant  supply  of  capital  more 
than  counterbalanced  the  higher  price  of  raw  material 
and  food.  Hume  might  reject  this  argument  because  he 
had  no  natural  theology  to  defend,  but  it  could  not  but  be 
attractive  to  Smith,  who  was  as  ardent  an  advocate  of  a 
divinely  planned  harmony  as  was  Tucker.  Smith  was 
also  interested  in  showing  that  full  liberty  in  trade  and 
industry  would  injure  no  nation.  As  we  know  from  the 
Lectures,  his  argument  was  based  entirely  on  the  advan- 
tages of  freedom  for  labour.  We  now  have  an  equally 
strong  argument  for  freedom  based  on  the  advantages  of 
capital.  Smith  had  shown  that  the  division  of  labour  was 
a  cause  of  cheapness  and  plenty.  We  find  another  cause 
of  these  blessings  in  the  abundance  of  capital.  The  two 
acquirements  thus  supplement  each  other,  Tucker  being 
as  much  a  eulogist  of  capital  as  Smith  had  been  of  labour. 
The  theory  of  distribution  which  Smith  adopted  seems 
to  have  had  its  origin  in  the  discussions  about  the  im- 
provement of  land.  The  landlords  did  not  work  their 
land  nor  furnish  the  capital  by  which  it  was  improved. 
In  making  up  the  accounts  of  estates,  therefore,  the 
labour  and  interest  expenses  were  kept  distinct  from  the 
gains  of  the  landlords  in  the  shape  of  rent.  As  it  was 
generally  assumed  that  the  growth  of  rent  was  the  in- 
dex of  national  prosperity,  an  endeavour  was  made  to 
keep  it  distinct  and  to  emphasize  its  importance.  When 
practical  men  admit  three  elements  in  their  bookkeeping, 
this  principle  will  soon  find  its  way  into  theoretical  dis- 
cussions. Such  was  the  case  in  a  discussion  on  the 
causes  of  the  increase  of  population,  in  which  William 
Bell  and  William  Temple  took  part.     In  1756  an  essay 


238  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

by  the  former  extolled  agriculture  and  pointed  out  the 
dangers  of  commerce.  In  the  reply  of  the  latter,  the 
theory  of  distribution,  afterwards  accepted  by  Smith, 
is  stated.  "  I  can,"  he  says,  "  most  clearly  perceive  that 
the  value  of  all  commodities  or  the  price  is  a  compound 
of  the  value  of  the  land  necessary  to  raise  them,  the 
value  of  the  labour  exerted  in  producing  and  manufac- 
turing them,  and  of  the  value  of  the  brokerage  which 
provides  and  circulates  them.  Now  to  vary  or  alter 
these  a  thousand  ways,  the  labourer  can  receive  no  advan- 
tage, unless  it  be  at  the  expense  of  one  or  both  of  the 
other  two."1  There  is  also  an  appendix  to  this  essay, 
in  which  Temple  divides  the  national  income  into  three 
parts,  the  return  from  rent,  brokerage,  and  labour.  The 
only  difference  between  this  statement  and  that  of  Smith 
is  that  Temple  uses  "brokerage"  where  Smith  uses 
"profits."  When  Smith  once  became  interested  in  capi- 
tal and  appreciated  its  importance,  it  was  not  necessary 
to  go  to  France  for  a  theory  that  had  already  become 
a  part  of  English  economics. 

This  new  thought  breaks  up  the  original  plan  of 
Smith's  book.  In  the  older  parts  he  had  accepted  the 
common  view  that  cheapness  depended  on  the  price  of 
labour,  and  it,  in  turn,  on  the  price  of  food.  The  value 
of  commodities  is  thus  made  equal  to  the  value  of  the 
food  used  up  in  producing  them.  This  doctrine  cannot, 
however,  be  accepted  if  the  use  of  capital  is  a  cause  of 
cheapness.  Value  is  now  determined  by  three  elements, 
—  the  price  of  labour,  the  price  of  capital  (interest),  and 
the  price  of  raw  material  (rent).  This  theory  of  value 
compels  Adam  Smith  to  separate  his  theory  of  produc- 
tion from  that  of  revenue.  The  discussion  of  wages 
profits,  and  rent,  which  he  inserts  in  the  First  Book,  is 
not  a  theory  of  distribution,  but  merely  a  discussion  of 

1  A  Vindication  of  Commerce  and  the  Arts,  Sec.  VIII. 


THE   MORALISTS  239 

the  component  parts  of  the  price  of  commodities.  His 
main  problem  is  to  settle  the  question  raised  by  Hume 
and  Tucker  as  to  how  prices  "  are  affected  by  the  riches 
or  poverty,  by  the  advancing,  stationary,  or  declining 
state,  of  society."  J 

There  is  reason,  therefore,  to  believe  that  this  new 
tendency  to  theorize  was  excited  in  Smith  by  Tucker's 
tracts  and  the  financial  crisis  of  1772.  Then  for  the 
first  time  was  he  able  to  break  away  from  the  notions 
that  subordinated  political  economy  to  jurisprudence. 
Revenue  ceased  to  be  the  centre  of  his  system ;  and  by 
divorcing  from  it  his  theory  of  prices,  he  was  enabled 
to  group  together  the  doctrines  which  have  since  been 
recognized  as  the  backbone  of  political  economy.  They 
are  arranged  in  an  artificial  order,  and  show  the  way  in 
which  Smith  approached  the  subject;  but  they  are  so 
closely  related  that  subsequent  writers  easily  put  them 
in  a  natural  order. 

There  is  yet  another  doctrine  to  add,  or  at  least  to 
place  properly,  before  Smith's  system  is  complete.  The 
way  in  which  the  doctrine  of  productive  labour  is  tucked 
into  the  Second  Book,  after  the  discussion  of  prices,  distri- 
bution, and  capital,  shows  that  Smith  came  upon  this  doc- 
trine later  than  upon  the  other  doctrines  of  the  group. 
Prices,  distribution,  and  capital  are  not  made  to  depend 
upon  productive  labour  as  they  would  have  been  if  Smith 
had  seen  its  importance  before  he  formulated  other  doc- 
trines. In  the  second  chapter  on  Stock,  Smith  contrasts 
"  such  goods  as  are  likely  to  be  consumed  by  idle  people 
who  produce  nothing  "  and  the  "  stock  of  materials,  tools, 
and  provisions  which  maintain  and  employ  an  additional 
number  of  industrious  people,  who  reproduce,  with  a 
profit,  the  value  of  their  annual  consumption."  Smith 
would  not  have  used  the  terms  "idle  people"  and  "in- 

1  See  Wealth  of  Nations,  the  close  of  Chap.  VII,  Book  I. 


240  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

dustrious  people  " *  if  he  had  been  at  that  time  familiar 
with  a  more  fitting  term.  Productive  labour  must  have 
come  into  his  vocabulary  after  this  paragraph  was 
written. 

To  understand  this  final  transformation  of  Smith's 
thought,  we  must  follow  his  development  rather  than 
that  of  economic  literature.  Like  other  English  moral- 
ists aroused  by  the  writings  of  Mandeville,  he  devotes 
in  his  Lectures  a  section  to  refuting  the  doctrine  that 
spending  is  not  injurious  if  it  is  done  at  home.  The 
Fable  of  the  Bees  had  assumed  that  consumption  was 
the  cause  of  industry,  and  that  luxury  and  vice  were 
necessary  to  stimulate  consumption.  This  doctrine  was 
revived  in  a  more  refined  form  by  Sir  James  Steuart, 
in  whose  Political  Economy  "  luxury  is  looked  upon  with 
a  favourable  eye,  and  every  augmentation  of  superfluity 
is  considered  as  a  method  of  advancing  population."2 
The  industrious  providers  and  the  luxurious  consumers, 
according  to  Steuart,  were  "  children  of  the  same  family 
and  under  the  care  of  the  same  father."  Steuart's  method 
of  proof  is  ingenious.  He  separates  society  into  two 
parts,  —  the  industrious  providers  and  the  luxurious  con- 
sumers, —  and  makes  them  mutually  dependent.  For 
some  to  save  others  must  spend.  It  is  thus  for  the  inter- 
est of  the  State  to  encourage  both  classes  and  to  preserve 
a  proper  balance  between  them.  This  thought  of  a  bal- 
ance of  production  and  consumption  is  evidently  derived 
from  that  of  a  balance  in  foreign  trade.  It  is  applied, 
however,  in  an  original  way,  and  leads  to  valuable  re- 
sults. Steuart's  favourite  term  is  the  "  balance  of  work 
and  demand,"  and  he  assumes  that  a  nation  is  in  a  sound 
condition  only  when  demand  and  work  are  equal.  A 
balance  of  income  saved  cannot   benefit  the  nation,  but 

1  These  phrases,  "idle  people"  and  "industrious  people,"  are  also  used 
in  the  Lectures  to  express  the  same  contrast.     See  p.  210. 

2  Book  II,  Chap.  XV. 


THE  MORALISTS  241 

must  either  be  locked  up  in  chests,  made  into  plate, 
or  lent  to  foreigners. 

Smith  has  said  somewhere  that  although  he  never  men- 
tioned Steuart's  name,  he  replied  to  everything  of  impor- 
tance that  Steuart  wrote.  This  gives  us  reason  to  believe 
that  he  had  Steuart  in  mind  when  he  wrote  the  chapter 
on  Productive  Labour.  No  one  had  so  clearly  stated  the 
issue,  nor  dwelt  on  it  so  fully,  as  Steuart.  There  is  also 
internal  evidence  that  Smith  had  studied  Steuart  and  was 
influenced  by  his  ideas  and  terminology.  Steuart's  "  bal- 
ance of  work  and  demand  "  becomes  in  Smith  a  "  balance 
of  produce  and  consumption."1  Steuart  thinks  a  nation 
prosperous  when  produce  and  consumption  are  equal, 
while  Smith  asserts  that  a  nation  advances  only  when  the 
produce  exceeds  the  consumption.  The  amount  con- 
sumed thus  becomes  revenue,  while  that  saved  becomes 
capital.  This  new  contrast  is  made  the  centre  of  the  dis- 
cussion of  productive  labour.  Capital  supports  industry  ; 
revenue  supports  men  in  idleness.  "  Where  capital  pre- 
dominates, industry  prevails ;  wherever  revenue,  idle- 
ness." 

Throughout  the  whole  discussion,  Smith  is  emphasizing 
the  advantages  of  parsimony  and  the  evils  of  prodigality. 
He  must,  therefore,  have  had  in  mind  writers  who,  like 
Steuart,  had  made  industry  and  consumption  the  source 
of  prosperity,  and  not  those  who,  like  the  Physiocrats, 
merely  denied  the  name  productive  to  those  who  created 
no  surplus.  Smith  occupied  a  middle  position  between 
Steuart  and  the  Physiocrats.  To  Steuart,  all  labour  was 
equally  productive ;  to  the  Physiocrats,  only  agriculture 
was  productive.  Steuart  thought  industry  the  source  of 
prosperity  ;  the  Physiocrats  regarded  prosperity  as  a  gift 
of  nature  in  the  form  of  an  agricultural  surplus ;  while 
Smith,  as  was  his  habit,  sought  an  answer  in  the  principles 

1  Wealth  of  Nations,  end  of  Chap.  VIII,  Book  IV. 


242  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  human  nature,  and  found  it  in  the  instinct  to  save. 
Smith  evidently  regarded  the  problem  of  productive  labour 
as  an  old  one,  to  which  both  Steuart  and  the  Physiocrats 
had  given  a  wrong  solution.  This  is  why  he  gave  so 
little  credit  to  the  Physiocrats  and  why  he  was  not  con- 
scious of  any  debt  to  them.  Whatever  value  he  found 
in  their  theories  came  very  late,  and  only  after  his  book 
was  practically  complete.  Then  he  inserted  a  reply  to 
Steuart  in  the  book  on  Stock,  and  added  a  chapter  to 
his  history  of  the  Mercantile  School,  in  which  he  exposes 
the  errors  of  the  Physiocrats.  In  no  other  chapter  are 
these  doctrines  referred  to,  although  their  importance  is 
so  great  that  he  could  not  have  avoided  the  use  of  both 
the  terms  and  the  ideas  of  Physiocratic  discussion  if  he 
had  been  familiar  with  them.  He  may  have  thought  that 
his  statements  in  the  Introduction  were  sufficient  to  indi- 
cate the  importance  of  the  Physiocratic  doctrine,  and  if 
so  he  was  right,  for  no  one  since  has  had  any  difficulty  in 
recognizing  their  importance  or  in  assigning  them  to  their 
proper  place. 

If  this  interpretation  of  Smith's  development  is  correct, 
all  the  theories  found  in  the  Wealth  of  Nations  were 
known  before  it  appeared.  We  must  account  for  their 
hold  upon  a  man  of  Smith's  type.  His  primary  interest 
lay  in  the  principles  of  human  nature  associated  with 
moral  science.  Smith  takes  these  principles  from  their 
moral  settings  and  illustrates  their  operations  in  the  field 
of  economics.  The  Wealth  of  Nations  thus  became  a  new 
type  of  natural  theology  and  gained  a  hearing  because  it 
satisfied  the  same  feelings  that  natural  theology  did. 
The  old  optimism  was  based  on  the  thought  that  wicked- 
ness is  always  punished.  The  moralists  never  ceased  to 
bring  forward  illustrations  of  the  final  retribution  that 
came  to  evil-doers.  The  new  economic  optimism  was 
based  on  the  thought  that  the  righteous  are  always  re- 
warded.     They  get,  it  is  claimed,  the  good   things   of 


THE  MORALISTS  243 

life  and  in  the  end  inherit  the  world.  The  same  thought 
is  present  in  both  cases.  It  is  illustrated  in  different 
fields  because  changes  in  the  environment  had  caused  one 
group  of  facts  to  disappear  and  had  put  another  group  in 
their  place.  Smith  was  thus  the  means  of  reconciling 
men  fitted  for  the  old  environment  to  the  new  environ- 
ment in  which  they  found  themselves.  But  for  him  the 
reaction  against  the  new  conditions  would  have  been 
more  severe  and  England  might  have  missed  the  opportu- 
nities for  development  that  had  been  opened  up. 

The  improvements  in  economic  and  philosophic  thought 
paved  the  way  for  the  religious  awakening  associated  with 
Wesley  and  the  rise  of  Methodism.  Depending  as  it  did 
on  inborn  motives  and  religious  enthusiasm,  this  move- 
ment, as  commonly  viewed,  is  far  from  the  field  of  eco- 
nomics. Many  of  its  most  striking  phenomena  are,  indeed, 
difficult  to  explain ;  yet,  as  often  happens,  the  facts  that 
made  the  deepest  impression  on  contemporary  observers 
are  of  least  value  in  explaining  its  enduring  features. 
The  important  contributions  of  Methodism  to  the  develop- 
ment of  thought  are  due  not  to  the  doctrines  of  Wesley 
nor  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  sect  he  founded,  but  to  the 
influence  he  and  they  exerted  on  the  religious  ideas  of 
the  whole  race.  The  test  of  the  power  of  a  given  sect 
or  school  is  the  changes  it  makes  in  other  people's  ideas. 
Writers  who  influence  only  men  of  their  own  type  have 
no  place  in  the  history  of  thought.  We  can,  therefore, 
with  propriety  overlook  both  those  early  features  of 
Methodism  which  died  out  as  the  movement  progressed, 
and  those  peculiarities  of  present  Methodist  organizations 
which  have  failed  to  become  general.  The  effects  of 
Methodism  on  other  religious  bodies  are  the  phenomena 
most  worthy  of  study.  Stripped  thus  of  all  but  its 
salient  features,  the  connection  of  Methodism  with  eco- 
nomic events  is  plain.      The  peculiarities  of  Methodism 


244  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

might  have  shown  themselves  in  some  other  age,  but 
its  rapid  spread  and  enduring  success  demanded  the 
economic  environment  of  England  in  the  eighteenth 
century. 

A  study  of  the  religious  condition  of  the  English  people 
at  that  time  must  begin  with  the  plagues  that  had  ravaged 
the  land  for  several  centuries.  While  Puritanism  was  in 
the  making,  plagues  did  much  to  create  the  ideas  and 
sentiments  of  the  people.  Regarded  as  a  sign  of  God's 
wrath,  the  plagues  tended  to  keep  alive  the  primitive  re- 
ligious feelings  by  which  every  evil  or  disaster  was  directly 
connected  with  God's  providence.  Of  even  greater  impor- 
tance were  the  great  economic  changes  caused  by  the 
plagues  which  fell  heavily  upon  the  lower  classes,  and 
oftentimes  almost  wiped  them  out.  Doubtless,  even  when 
the  plagues  were  at  their  worst,  there  was  always  a 
fringe  of  what  we  should  now  call  the  slum  element,  but 
this  small  minority  escaped  attention  in  a  society  whose 
general  standards  were  high  enough  to  resist  such  diseases. 
Society  was  thus  raised  far  above  its  normal  level  by  the 
constant  destruction  of  its  lowest  elements.  Puritanism 
became  possible  only  because  high  standards  of  life  and 
character  were  necessary  to  existence  under  the  then 
prevailing  conditions. 

The  disappearance  of  the  plagues  and  the  downfall  of 
the  Puritans  came  together.  Five  years  after  the  restora- 
tion of  Charles  II.  came  the  last  of  the  great  epidemics 
from  which  England  had  so  long  suffered.  It  was  then 
possible  for  the  lower  classes  to  increase,  and  the  im- 
proved economic  conditions  stimulated  their  growth. 
The  result  was  an  emphatic  reduction  of  the  level  of 
society  and  the  creation  of  a  type  of  labourers  that  earlier 
conditions  would  have  exterminated.  This  downward 
tendency  of  society  was  strengthened  by  the  ravages  of 
consumption  which  became  the  scourge  of  the  dwellers 
in  cities,  whose  indoor  life  deprived  them  of  pure  air  and 


THE   MORALISTS  245 

light.  The  upper  classes  could  not  escape  consumption 
as  readily  as  they  had  the  plagues.  Their  ranks  were 
thinned  slowly  but  surely,  and  those  that  escaped  had 
their  vitality  and  energy  so  reduced  that  they  did  not 
exert  as  much  influence  as  formerly.  Disease  after  1660 
thus  forced  society  as  much  below  the  normal  level  as 
prior  to  that  date  it  had  raised  society  above  it.  Society 
rises  when  the  elimination  is  on  its  under  edge,  and  sinks 
when  the  elimination  is  on  the  upper  edge.  When  this 
latter  condition  is  coincident  with  peace,  security,  and 
economic  prosperity,  a  rapid  increase  of  the  low  and  shift- 
less classes  is  sure  to  follow.  Such  a  change  in  the  condi- 
tion and  character  of  the  English  people  was  certain  to 
affect  their  religious  ideals  and  observances.  The  belief 
in  God  had  rested  mainly  on  tangible  evidences  of  his 
wrath.  So  long  as  plagues,  famines,  wars,  and  similar 
disasters  were  of  frequent  occurrence,  it  was  easy  to  keep 
religion  in  the  foreground,  for  every  one  felt  the  need  of 
some  means  to  propitiate  the  Being  who  caused  so  much 
suffering  and  distress.  Good  times  and  exemption  from 
disease,  however,  allayed  these  fears.  Religion  would 
have  been  discredited  if  it  had  not  found  a  new  means 
of  enforcing  its  claims. 

The  movement  of  population  into  the  new  regions,  due 
to  agricultural  and  industrial  improvements,  tended  to 
weaken  the  hold  of  old  ideas.  Many  of  the  old  restraints 
which  were  of  a  local  nature  disappeared  when  settle- 
ments were  made  in  places  without  religious  associations. 
There  were  few  churches  in  these  new  regions,  and  as 
the  clergy  had  no  missionary  zeal,  new-comers  were  left 
to  their  own  devices,  so  that  a  reckless,  careless  spirit 
developed,  which  encouraged  dissipation  and  extrava- 
gance. All  new  societies  begin  their  career  with  an  epoch 
of  degeneration.  Rapid  economic  changes  created  in 
many  parts  of  England  the  same  social  conditions  that 
prevail  in  the  frontier   settlements   of   America.      Both 


246  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

regions  were  ripe  for  a  reversion  that  would  again  awaken 
the  normal  ideals  of  the  race.  It  is  not  at  all  remarkable 
that  both  Wesley  and  Whitefield  should  have  begun  their 
work  in  America.  Here,  the  new  evils  were  more  pro- 
nounced, and  the  remedies  more  clearly  visible.  But 
when  the  restraints  that  had  smothered  religious  activity 
were  once  thrown  off,  England  offered  the  better  oppor- 
tunity for  missionary  effort,  because  its  population  was 
more  concentrated  and  its  clergy  more  indifferent. 

The  suppression  of  religious  feelings  and  religious 
activity  was  one  of  the  effects  of  the  downfall  of  the  Puri- 
tans. Their  energy  and  activity  made  so  painful  an  im- 
pression on  the  following  century  that  every  one  avoided 
such  manifestations  of  feeling  as  would  bring  up  the 
thought  of  the  Puritans.  The  evils  attributed  to  religious 
activity  were  called  "  enthusiasm,"  and  the  opposition  to 
it  was  so  great  that  it  acted  as  a  barrier  to  efforts  to  ex- 
tend the  influence  of  the  Church.  Clergymen  might  write 
philosophical  essays  or  defend  the  divine  rights  of  kings, 
but  earnest  work  among  their  parishioners  aroused  against 
them  the  strong  prejudices  created  by  the  memories  of 
earlier  times. 

Although  defeated  and  despised,  the  Puritans  had  im- 
pressed on  religious  thought  certain  ideas  from  which  the 
succeeding  generations  could  not  break  away.  All  super- 
stitious observances  had  been  suppressed,  a  new  concept 
of  Sunday  created,  and  old  social  amusements  abolished. 
These  changes  repressed  activity,  forced  people  to  live 
more  completely  in  their  homes,  and  thus  made  them  less 
social.  Superstition  was  doubtless  bad,  but  it  at  least 
permitted  an  expression  of  the  inner  self  and  a  type  of 
activity  natural  to  primitive  men.  The  social  games  and 
amusements  were  sensual,  but  they  gave  vent  to  the 
natural  craving  for  activity,  and  satisfied  energies  which 
had  no  other  outlet.  The  new  restrictions  on  activity, 
like  the  opposition  to  enthusiasm,  compelled  the  English 


THE  MORALISTS  247 

people  to  be  more  passive  and  inert  than  was  natural  to 
them.  When  nature  is  restrained  and  suppressed  in  one 
direction  it  finds  an  outlet  in  another.  It  was,  therefore, 
only  a  question  of  time  when  some  movement  to  restore 
the  equilibrium  disturbed  by  past  conflicts  and  prejudices 
would  begin. 

The  increased  regularity  of  economic  life  demanded  by 
the  new  industries  also  tended  to  repress  the  naturally 
restless  spirit  of  Englishmen.  The  division  of  labour  nar- 
rowed individual  activity  and  compelled  labourers  to  con- 
fine their  attention  to  single  processes.  Day  after  day  the 
same  monotonous  acts  were  repeated,  without  any  of  the 
relief  which  comes  from  variety  in  work.  At  the  end  of 
each  day  the  weary  labourer  sought  his  bed  without  any 
chance  to  relieve  by  activity  the  suppressed  motor  tenden- 
cies for  which  his  economic  life  had  no  use. 

As  economic  life  grows  narrower  or  steadier,  a  craving  for 
intenser  activity  in  other  fields  is  created.  This  necessary 
complement,  to  be  efficient,  must  utilize  the  disused  motor 
tendencies  no  longer  needed  in  the  economic  world.  As 
each  new  environment  forces  the  race  to  develop  new  motor 
reactions  suited  to  its  conditions,  older  reactions  are  thus 
left  free,  and  there  follows  a  degeneration  unless  some 
group  of  higher  motives  arises  to  utilize  them.  When 
great  economic  changes  throw  out  of  use  motor  reactions 
which  have  formerly  been  necessary,  the  first  outlet  for 
the  restrained  activities  is  usually  found  in  dissipation. 
Success  in  the  economic  world  gives  increased  income, 
which  is  wasted  in  those  forms  of  dissipation  giving  the 
readiest  vent  to  feelings  and  motives  not  in  harmony  with 
Ithe  new  economic  world.  The  thoroughly  dissipated  man 
has  no  feeling  of  suppressed  activity;  his  vices  compensate 
for  the  monotony  of  his  economic  life.  These  left-over 
tendencies,  though  satisfying,  are  destructive  ;  in  the  end 
the  race  must  react  against  them.  Thus  a  new  comple- 
ment to  the  economic  life  is  created  by  a  religious  and 


248  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

social  revival.  A  social  man  has  more  activities  than  an 
unsocial  man,  and  the  intenser  feelings  of  a  religious  man 
drain  off  the  surplus  energy  that  might  otherwise  be 
wasted  in  dissipation.  If  a  new  round  of  activities  is  to 
be  created  supplementary  to  the  intenser  but  narrower 
activities  of  the  economic  world,  the  social  and  religious 
movements  must  work  together.  I  shall  try  to  point  out 
how  the  new  religious  movement  supplied  both  these  ends, 
and  thus  proved  itself  to  be  the  proper  complement  to  the 
industrial  changes  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  new  economic  conditions  I  have  described  formed 
the  background  of  the  new  religion,  and  were  the  cause 
of  its  success.  The  peculiar  form  taken  by  the  revival 
was  mainly  due  to  the  activity  of  two  men  —  Whitefield 
and  Wesley,  who,  though  differing  widely  in  their  charac- 
ter and  mode  of  expression,  were  good  complements,  and 
together  accomplished  a  work  in  which  either  one  alone 
would  have  failed.  Wesley  was  b}r  far  the  greater  man, 
but  the  type  of  religion  that  he  alone  would  have  tried  to 
impress  on  the  people  would  have  been  too  crude  to  com- 
mand a  general  following.  His  family  was  superstitious, 
and  thought  the  house  haunted  by  a  goblin,  while  Wesley 
himself  believed  in  the  casting  of  lots,  and  frequently 
during  the  earlier  part  of  his  career  resorted  to  this 
means  to  determine  his  policy.  He  also  regarded  earth- 
quakes not  as  natural  phenomena,  but  as  direct  manifesta- 
tions of  God's  power  intended  to  indicate  some  judgment 
on  men.  His  sermon  on  the  earthquake  at  Lisbon  shows 
the  extent  of  his  superstitions. 

Naturally  of  the  order  of  prophets,  Wesley  would 
have  been  in  his  element  if  he  had  lived  in  a  period 
of  great  distress,  and  had  his  preaching  enforced  by  a 
series  of  wars,  famines,  plagues,  and  earthquakes.  In 
such  periods  prophets  flourish,  and  Wesley  eagerly  sought 
for  any  event  that  seemed  to  indicate  that  the  wrath  of 


THE  MORALISTS  249 

God  was  about  to  be  poured  forth.  As  an  illustration, 
notice  how  carefully  he  examined  into  a  slight  earthquake 
at  Whitson  Cliffs,  Yorkshire.  But,  fortunately  for  the 
world,  he  lived  in  an  age  of  the  greatest  peace  and  se- 
curity. The  plagues  that  had  so  long  ravished  England 
were  things  of  the  past,  the  religious  wars  had  ceased  ; 
invasion  had  lost  much  of  its  terrors,  and  for  England  at 
least  wars  were  too  far  away  to  have  any  influence  on  pub- 
lic opinion.  Prophets  were  never  at  a  greater  discount 
than  at  that  time,  for  there  was  a  superficial  optimism, 
upon  which  the  croakers  of  evil  could  make  no  impres- 
sion. Look  where  the  prophet  might,  he  could  find  no 
cloud  big  enough  to  attract  public  attention.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  Wesley's  work  was  done  before  the  French 
Revolution,  an  event  which  opened  up  a  new  field  for 
prophets.  The  new  race  of  which  Carlyle  was  a  type  finds  in 
social  disorders,  political  revolutions,  and  economic  strife, 
material  upon  which  to  base  its  predictions  ;  and  when  this 
fails,  the  supposed  evils  of  socialism  and  agnosticism  are 
thrilling  enough  in  themselves  to  arouse  the  prophetic 
spirit.  Taken  together  these  events  and  tendencies  have 
opened  up  a  new  field  which  a  host  of  prophets  have  tilled. 
But  Wesley  had  none  of  these  later  opportunities. 

A  religious  movement  at  that  particular  moment  must 
have  relied  on  other  resources.  Fortunately,  there  was  a 
man  at  hand  whose  inclinations  differed  from  Wesley,  and 
who  like  other  of  the  Calvinists  was  a  wonderful  painter  and 
could  reproduce  in  his  hearers'  minds  the  striking  pictures 
of  his  own  vivid  imagination.  Whitefield  differed  from 
his  predecessors  in  that  he  visualized  the  scenes  of  another 
world,  while  they  had  used  their  powers  to  picture  long 
past  events  of  this  world.  The  central  picture  of  the 
earlier  Calvinists  was  the  covenant  and  the  assembled 
host  of  Israel  at  the  foot  of  Sinai.  Whitefield's  central 
picture  was  of  the  final  judgment,  in  which  the  whole  race 
stood  before  the  judgment  bar  of  God.     His  predecessors 


250  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

dealt  with  Hebrews  in  distant  ages  and  places,  he  pict- 
ured the  Englishmen  of  his  day  in  the  same  direct  rela- 
tion with  God  in  which  the  earlier  Hebrews  had  stood. 
Hell  and  the  final  judgment  were  made  as  real  as  if 
they  were  parts  of  the  present  environment  and  were 
seen  by  the  naked  eye. 

I  state  these  facts  to  emphasize  the  difference  between 
Whitefield  and  Wesley.  Whitefield  was  a  visualizer  and 
dealt  in  made  phenomena.  Wesley  was  an  observer  and 
naturally  needed  real  phenomena,  such  as  plagues,  wars, 
and  earthquakes  as  the  starting-point  of  his  work.  He 
expected  God  to  create  the  events  that  were  to  be  used 
in  changing  men's  hearts.  Whitefield,  on  the  contrary, 
relied  more  fully  on  himself,  and  by  a  shrewd  use  of  his 
power  of  visualizing  created  the  impressions  that  were  to 
influence  men's  conduct.  When  I  say  that  Whitefield 
dealt  in  made  phenomena  I  do  not  mean  that  he  used 
tricks.  These  are  resorted  to  only  by  men  who  have  not 
the  visualizing  power  well  enough  developed  to  enable 
them  to  call  up  complete  pictures  of  the  events  they  wish 
to  depict.  But  the  fact  that  such  charges  were  made 
against  Whitefield  shows  that  he  was  using  a  means  of 
moving  men  that  was  of  his  own  making,  and  hence  could 
be  easily  counterfeited.  Earthquakes  and  plagues  cannot 
be  made  to  order,  and  if  not  created  at  an  opportune 
moment,  the  mission  of  prophets  depending  on  them  fails. 
But  as  there  are  no  such  limits  in  the  field  of  the  imagina- 
tion, men  can  go  much  farther  by  their  own  activity  and 
accomplish  more  results. 

It  required  a  man  of  Whitefield's  type  to  bring  about  a 
religious  awakening  ;  but  had  he  worked  alone  there  would 
have  been  only  a  momentary  excitement,  a  strong  reaction 
towards  earlier  ideals  and  standards.  The  forward  move- 
ment of  religious  thought  was  due  to  the  guiding  hand  of 
Wesley,  and  his  influence,  recognizable  in  every  perma- 
nent feature,  alone  saved  the  movement  from  failure. 


THE   MORALISTS  251 

I  infer  that  Whitefield  would  have  failed,  because  he 
was  a  Calvinist  possessed  of  the  sympathies  and  mental 
attitude  characteristic  of  that  belief.  Calvinism  is  a  vig- 
orous plant  in  the  right  soil,  but  out  of  its  own  peculiar 
environment  it  fails  to  take  root.  The  time  had  passed 
when  in  any  pure  form  it  could  exert  a  dominant  influence 
on  English  thought.  It  flourished  in  an  age  when  indus- 
trial success  and  scientific  knowledge  were  intimately  con- 
nected with  religious  thought,  and  the  Calvinist  succeeded 
because  he  had  a  better  knowledge  of  his  environment  and 
more  industrial  energy  than  his  opponents.  But  when 
industrial  energy  and  forethought  were  transformed  into 
capitalism,  and  knowledge  of  the  environment  became 
science,  it  was  evident  that  the  intellectual  side  of  Calvin- 
ism had  given  birth  to  two  independent  movements,  whose 
force  was  to  be  felt  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Then  it 
was  that  the  capitalist  and  the  scientist,  though  of  a  com- 
mon descent,  became  so  independent  that  they  offered  no 
support  to  the  religious  element  with  which  they  were 
originally  united.  The  growth  of  the  spirit  of  toleration 
also  took  from  the  Calvinists  another  of  their  advantages. 
They  had  distinguished  themselves  in  persecution,  and 
by  their  example  had  done  much  to  create  the  lofty  spirit 
of  their  age.  When  persecution  ceased,  weaker  and  less 
fertile  leaders  gained  control  of  the  Church,  from  whom  no 
religious  awakening  could  be  expected. 

Besides  the  reasons  already  stated,  the  failure  of  Calvin- 
ism was  due  in  large  part  to  the  peculiar  character  of  its 
controlling  principle,  the  doctrine  of  predestination.  A 
belief  in  predestination  implies  a  spirit  of  resignation 
—  a  mental  attribute  characteristic  of  women.  In  their 
relations  to  husband  and  family,  they  must  put  up  with 
unavoidable  evils  and  accept  with  resignation  conditions 
and  decisions  against  which  they  cannot  successfully  strug- 
gle.    All  these  facts  combine  to  create  the  mental  attitude 


252  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  women,  and  their  spirit  is  reflected  in  religion  when- 
ever society  is  confronted  with  evils  beyond  control. 

The  attitude  of  men  is  different.  They  are  naturally 
optimistic,  for  they  have  more  control  over  the  conditions 
and  events  upon  which  their  welfare  depends.  Man's  will 
is  dominant,  his  misfortunes  are  mainly  self-created,  and 
if  he  suffers  he  seeks  to  remedy  the  evil  by  changing  his 
character  or  environment.  A  feeling  of  resignation  is 
fatal;  he  best  succeeds  who  believes  in  his  freedom,  and 
fully  accepts  responsibility  for  his  acts.  When  religion 
reflects  this  attitude  it  emphasizes  the  power  of  men  over 
their  environment,  and  becomes  Arminian.  Unavoidable 
evils  foster,  even  in  men,  an  attitude  of  resignation;  while 
unnecessary  evils  stir  up,  even  in  women,  a  spirit  of 
revolt.  The  environment  and  the  economic  conditions 
thus  determine  what  attitude  will  be  dominant  in  a  given 
society,  and  what  type  of  religion  will  do  the  most  for  its 
elevation. 

Keeping  in  mind  the  force  of  these  statements,  the  rela- 
tion between  Puritanism  and  Calvinism  is  made  manifest. 
In  the  age  of  wars,  plagues,  and  general  economic  disturb- 
ances, it  did  seem  as  if  an  overruling  destiny  controlled 
human  affairs.  Then  with  the  discovery  of  America 
came  about  an  industrial  change,  the  effects  of  which 
were  more  noticeable  in  the  women  than  in  the  men  —  a 
natural  result  when  we  realize  that  men  take  to  an  indus- 
trial life  only  as  a  last  resort,  while  women  are  economic 
by  nature. 

As  the  Englishman  in  early  times  was  possessor  of  a 
sensual  and  easy-going  disposition,  he  by  himself  would 
never  have  become  dissatisfied  with  the  established  order 
of  things.  It  was  the  wife  who  strove  to  break  up  the 
communal  pleasures  and  to  substitute  those  of  the  home; 
and  it  was  she  who  bore  the  burden  of  the  severe  exertion 
that  was  necessary  for  those  more  economic  forms  of 
enjoyment.      The  women  cooked  and  scrubbed  ;  worked 


THE   MORALISTS  253 

in  the  fields  ;  spun,  wove,  and  made  the  clothes ;  taught 
the  children  and  cared  for  the  men. 

The  industrial  awakening  took  place  during  the  period 
when  England  was  afflicted  with  the  plagues,  which  could 
be  successfully  resisted  only  by  cleanliness,  and  the  bur- 
dens which  cleanliness  imposed  fell  entirely  on  the  women. 
Under  the  prevailing  conditions  it  was  a  tremendous  task 
to  scrub  the  floors,  clean  the  houses,  and  keep  the  clothes 
and  bed  linen  in  a  sanitary  condition.  Men  did  not  help  in 
this  work ;  and  if  a  woman  failed,  the  plagues  soon  found 
out  her  deficiencies,  and  ended  the  existence  of  the  family. 
It  is  not  difficult  to  see  the  causes  for  a  rapid  extermina- 
tion of  women  of  a  non-industrial  type.  The  eagerness 
of  women  for  economic  goods  and  home  life  forced  an 
evolution  which  gave  them  intenser  pleasures  and  in- 
creased their  social  importance ;  but  as  mothers  they  had 
more  to  endure,  and  thus  their  natural  spirit  of  resigna- 
tion was  intensified.  Women  became  more  womanly  in 
temperament  as  their  lives  became  more  industrial. 

These  changes  could  not  but  affect  the  attitude  of  men 
also.  Those  families  throve  best  whose  men  reflected  in 
a  measure  the  feelings  that  inspired  the  wives.  The  prac- 
tical domination  of  woman  was  a  necessity  of  the  indus- 
trial situation,  and  those  who  accepted  her  domination  as 
inevitable,  and  felt  the  inspiration  of  her  ideals,  became 
better  husbands,  and  strengthened  by  their  influence  the 
tendencies  that  led  the  nation  into  an  industrial  life.  I 
do  not  mean  that  the  Puritan  fathers  consciously  subordi- 
nated themselves  to  their  wives,  but  that  they  were  as 
a  rule  a  slow,  plodding  set  who  accepted  the  judgment 
of  that  sex  which  thinks  more  quickly  and  has  truer 
instincts. 

In  very  early  times,  when  education  was  mainly  a  train- 
ing of  the  eye,  ear,  and  hand,  a  boy  came  under  the  influ- 
ence more  of  his  father  than  of  his  mother,  and  acquired 
manly  instincts,  and  a  disgust  for  the  ways  and  mental 


254  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

attitude  of  women.  But  with  the  development  of  an 
intenser  industrial  life,  boys  were  thrown  more  with  their 
mothers,  and  received  from  them  the  greater  part  of  their 
education.  As  soon  as  the  Bible  was  translated,  and 
catechisms  and  other  printed  lore  displaced  oral  tradition, 
the  teaching  of  religion  and  morals  also  fell  largely  into 
woman's  hands.  Every  advance  in  education  and  family 
religion  increased  the  importance  of  women.  It  is,  there- 
fore, no  wonder  that  mothers  exerted  a  dominant  influence 
over  their  sons,  and  that  a  type  of  womanly  men  arose, 
who  accepted  the  standards  and  ideals  of  their  wives 
and  mothers.  By  womanly  men  I  do  not  mean  effeminate 
men,  but  those  who  have  inherited  the  temperament  of 
their  mothers,  and  have  been  dominated  by  their  mothers' 
influence  and  example.  These  "  mothers'  boys  "  are  as 
pure  in  speech  as  in  conduct  and  seldom  give  violent 
manifestations  of  anger.  They  endure  rather  than  resist 
pain  and  evil,  and  hope  that  distant  rewards  will  requite 
them  for  present  suffering.  Such  men  have  a  deep  reli- 
gious spirit,  and  are  the  material  of  which  martyrs  are 
made. 

The  Puritan  revolution  brought  men  of  this  type  to  the 
front.  Never  before  had  a  race  of  men  so  consciously 
accepted  woman's  standards  and  striven  so  earnestly  to 
make  their  lives  as  pure  as  woman's.  The  Cavaliers,  on 
the  other  hand,  were  plainly  controlled  by  men's  concepts 
and  ideals.  There  was  an  open  disregard  of  women  and 
of  womanly  influences.  They  were  as  plainly  moved  by 
the  natural  impulses  inherited  by  men  from  the  distant 
past,  as  the  Puritans  were  inspired  by  the  new  ideals  that 
women  were  beginning  to  impress  on  the  race.  Perhaps 
the  Puritans  were  not  fully  aware  of  the  influence  that 
women  exerted,  but  they  were  not  irritated  by  pressure 
exerted  by  women,  nor  did  they  hesitate  to  follow  paths 
which  women  pointed  out.  The  more  consciously  a 
womanly  man  recognizes  the  source  of  his  inspiration,  the 


THE   MORALISTS  255 

more  likely  is  he  to  do  himself  justice,  and  to  advance 
the  cause  to  which  he  is  devoted. 

Whitefield  was  a  man  of  this  kind,  while  Wesley  was 
wholly  free  from  woman's  influence.  As  a  student  the 
former  was  influenced  by  Wesley  and  the  group  of  manly 
men  that  created  the  Methodist  movement,  but  when  he 
followed  his  natural  inclinations  he  was  dominated  by  a 
woman.  In  the  ensuing  theological  controversies  the 
real  issue  lay,  not  between  Whitefield  and  Wesley,  but 
between  the  latter  and  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon. 
The  struggle,  therefore,  was  between  the  manly  and  the 
womanly  elements  in  religion,  and  the  manly  element  won 
because  it  harmonized  with  the  tendencies  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  objective  evils  of  the  new  century  were 
few,  chiefly  relating  to  the  use  of  increased  incomes  and 
opportunities.  Under  these  circumstances  a  religion  which 
inculcated  a  spirit  of  resignation  would  have  been  fatal  to 
progress,  since  men  had  to  be  impressed  with  the  impor- 
tance of  choices  and  with  man's  power  to  make  them. 

This  condition  calls  forth  the  manly  instincts  in  men, 
by  forcing  them  to  free  themselves  from  the  mental  atti- 
tude which  womanly  teachings  create.  Womanly  women 
make  the  good  better  by  raising  social  standards,  but  they 
do  not  redeem  the  bad  who  fail  from  lack  of  decision  and 
will.  Manly  men  have  strong  wills  and  delight  in  exer- 
cising them  ;  they  seek  to  influence  their  inferiors,  and 
to  impart  to  others  their  own  self-control.  Natural  mis- 
sionaries, they  succeed  whenever  the  chief  cause  of  social 
degeneration  is  found  in  a  defective  will  power.  If 
Methodism  checked  the  growing  supremacy  of  women,  it 
raised  the  standard  of  men  and  brought  to  the  front  a 
better  type  of  religious  leaders  —  men  whose  wills  were 
too  strong  to  be  influenced  by  women.  This  was  an  evil 
which  brought  its  own  compensation,  for  a  more  primitive 
type  of  woman  tended  to  survive,  who  performed  the 
duties  of  motherhood  more  easily. 


256  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

If  the  non-Wesleyan  elements  in  the  religious  revival 
have  been  correctly  stated,  we  are  in  a  position  to  em- 
phasize duly  Wesley's  real  work.  Though  there  is  a  Wes- 
leyan  activity  and  many  Wesleyan  mannerisms,  there  is 
no  Wesleyan  philosophy  nor  any  peculiar  word  pictures  so 
characteristic  of  Calvinism.  The  reason  for  this  is  that 
Wesley  was  like  others  of  his  age,  an  observer,  measur- 
ing mental  phenomena  by  their  outward  manifestations. 
With  him  a  feeling  that  did  not  reveal  itself  in  action 
and  deeds  counted  for  nothing.  The  only  indications  of 
a  change  of  heart  that  he  would  accept  were  sensible  con- 
version and  outward  signs.  No  conversion  was  complete 
unless  accompanied  by  a  change  of  activity. 

In  adopting  this  standard  Wesley  made  a  greater 
change  in  religion  than  he  was  probably  aware  of.  The 
earlier  manifestations  of  conversion  were  objective  ;  Wes- 
ley emphasized  their  psychic  nature.  The  fact  that  a 
person  belonged  to  the  church  and  had  gone  through  cer- 
tain forms  and  ceremonies  was  no  longer  accepted  as  an 
evidence  of  a  change  of  heart.  Certain  conscious  states 
and  an  emotional  expression  of  the  self  were  demanded. 
Methodism  made  people  conscious  of  their  emotional 
nature  and  educated  them  in  its  manifestations.  Every 
one,  it  taught,  must  have  an  assurance  of  his  salvation, 
and  to  have  this  he  must  recognize  and  manifest  certain 
well-known  motor  feelings.  A  mere  belief  or  a  sensory 
knowledge  that  created  no  measurable  motor  reactions 
was  not  enough  to  free  a  person  from  the  bondage  of  sin. 

If  a  Christian  of  the  old  type  had  been  asked,  as  Wesley 
was  fond  of  asking, "  What  is  your  assurance  of  salvation?  " 
he  would  at  first  have  been  puzzled  by  the  novelty  of 
the  question.  But  if  he  thought  the  matter  out,  he  would 
probably  have  replied,  "  The  peace  and  security  I  enjoy, 
and  the  worldly  goods  God  has  bestowed  on  me."  The 
older  tests  were  material  and  national.  God  punished  the 
nation  when  He  was  displeased,  and  hence  national  peace 


THE   MORALISTS  257 

and  prosperity  were  taken  as  indications  of  a  reconciliation 
with  God.  This  idea  is  found  also  in  the  Old  Testament, 
which  abounds  in  examples  where  the  material  welfare  of 
individuals  is  made  the  measure  of  God's  good  will.  An- 
other test  would  have  been  freedom  from  disease.  If  all 
these  tests  were  favourable,  few  if  any  Christians  before  the 
time  of  Wesley  would  have  doubted  their  salvation.  If 
people  were  particularly  pious  and  wished  to  assure  them- 
selves of  especial  or  exceptional  favours,  they  gave  alms, 
helped  the  sick,  went  on  pilgrimages,  fasted,  said  a  certain 
number  of  prayers,  or  fulfilled  other  tasks  which  the  cus- 
toms of  the  age  favoured.  These  objective  standards  of 
excellence  held  an  honoured  place  in  church  history. 
But  they  were  all  brushed  aside  by  Wesley  or  at  least 
delegated  to  a  very  subordinate  place,  and,  instead,  cer- 
tain mental  states  and  especially  the  manifestation  of 
psychic  excitement  were  emphasized.  It  is  of  course  an 
exaggeration  to  say  that  by  the  new  method  religious  feel- 
ing was  measured  by  the  palpitations  of  the  heart,  changes 
in  the  voice,  and  sudden  explosions  of  suppressed  feelings. 
But  so  closely  connected  are  these  manifestations  of  men- 
tal excitement  with  any  violent  outing  of  the  inner  self, 
that  it  is  no  wonder  external  changes  of  a  physical  nature 
were  often  mistaken  for  the  internal  changes  so  much  de- 
sired by  the  convert.  These  outward  manifestations  at  least 
helped  to  call  the  attention  to  the  personality  of  the  believer 
instead  of  to  his  deeds.  When  the  field  of  observation  is 
changed  from  outward  to  inward  objects,  the  delicate 
psychic  phenomena  otherwise  overlooked  come  into  notice. 
The  cruder  manifestations  of  mental  excitement  soon 
passed  away,  but  the  attitude  of  self-examination  remained. 
Subjective  standards  of  perfection  were  thus  acquired 
which  displaced  the  earlier  objective  standards.  Such 
great  changes  could  not  have  taken  place  if  corresponding 
economic  changes  had  not  confined  the  economic  activity 
of  individuals  to  a  narrower  sphere  and  thus  left  many 


258  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

internal  promptings  to  activity  without  any  appropriate 
vent.  Suppressed  tendencies  and  disused  motor  reactions 
are  the  key  to  the  phenomenon  of  conversion.  Each 
mind  is  a  bundle  of  motor  reactions  created  by  previous 
economic  conditions.  When  a  new  environment  throws 
a  given  reaction  out  of  employment,  unrest  is  felt  until 
some  new  use  is  found  for  it.  A  conversion  is  the  crea- 
tion of  a  new  set  of  associations  by  which  this  old  reaction 
is  made  to  respond  to  new  stimuli.  When  this  change 
takes  place  under  excitement  there  is  an  instantaneous 
conversion.  A  self-examination  discloses  a  suppressed 
motor  tendency,  and  then  a  great  mental  strain  makes 
this  motor  tendency  respond  to  the  new  feeling  which  is 
demanding  some  mode  of  expression. 

If  the  activity  of  Englishmen  had  not  been  unduly  re- 
strained in  the  time  of  Wesley,  this  conversion  of  motor 
reactions  to  new  uses  could  not  have  taken  place.  Meth- 
odism simply  utilized  a  fund  of  activity  for  which  other 
outlets  were  denied  either  by  economic  conditions,  moral 
scruples,  or  inherited  prejudices.  The  opposition  to  en- 
thusiasm suppressed  religious  activity.  The  Puritan  raid 
against  vice  destroyed  communal  pleasures  and  cut  off 
the  social  intercourse  incident  to  large  gatherings.  The 
new  industries  confined  the  activity  of  each  individual  to 
narrow  channels,  and  family  life  became  so  absorbing  and 
so  intense  that  social  matters  were  neglected.  Calvinistic 
religion  was  mainly  a  family  affair,  and  the  Church  of 
England  also  emphasized  the  individual  relations  of  priest 
and  communicant  too  much  to  encourage  a  social  religion. 
Wesley  shrewdly  utilized  social  customs  for  religious  ends 
by  encouraging  large  gatherings.  In  the  place  of  fairs, 
May  days,  and  other  sensual  events,  he  introduced  reli- 
gious organizations,  which  gave  the  same  activity  and  sat- 
isfied the  natural  cravings  for  society.  Wakes,  revivals, 
and  love  feasts  broke  up  the  monotony  of  family  life  and 
made  outside  interests  once  more  supreme. 


THE  MORALISTS  259 

This  socializing  of  religion  transferred  religious  teach- 
ing from  mothers  to  a  special  class  of  men.  Domestic 
devotion  being  changed  to  public  worship,  men  naturally- 
acquired  the  leadership,  and  women  became  listeners  and 
learners.  Family  worship  seemed  flat  and  unprofitable 
after  the  excitement  of  class  meetings,  love  feasts,  and 
midnight  assemblies.  Home  instruction  also  gradually 
fell  into  disuse,  and  children,  like  grown  people,  got  their 
education  in  classes  and  under  church  control.  Sunday 
schools,  prayer  meetings,  class  meetings,  and  similar  social 
organizations,  which  became  the  centres  of  interest, 
were  so  much  more  satisfying  that  they  overshadowed  the 
earlier,  more  private  means  of  grace.  Two  systems  of 
religious  instruction  so  antagonistic  in  their  tendencies 
could  not  thrive  in  the  same  soil.  A  Calvinistic  home 
was  a  self-contained  unit  through  every  part  of  which  the 
mother's  influence  and  energy  were  felt.  But  the  lower 
classes  had  no  homes  in  this  sense,  and  mothers  were  too 
deeply  immersed  in  the  outside  struggle  to  be  able  to  do 
justice  to  home  duties.  A  missionary  movement  was 
forced  therefore  to  resort  to  other  and  more  stirring 
means  of  attaining  its  ends,  and  this  gave  men  the  oppor- 
tunity to  appropriate  religious  instruction  and  to  make  it 
social.  As  the  family  life  became  narrower  and  more  eco- 
nomic, the  mother  became  supreme,  controlling  the  family 
expenditures,  and  practically  creating  a  new  matriarchal 
system.  This  restriction  of  the  religious  activity  of 
mothers  turned  their  attention  more  fully  to  economic 
affairs  and  did  much  to  bring  on  the  social  struggle  for 
wealth  now  so  dominant  in  all  classes.  While  a  few 
men  were  intensifying  religious  life,  mothers  with  equal 
earnestness  were  intensifying  the  struggle  for  economic 
supremacy. 

The  emphasis  that  Wesley  gave  to  psychic  phenomena, 
and  especially  to  motor  manifestations  of  the  self,  raised 
up  new  religious  ideals.     The  Puritan's  personality  was 


260  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

practically  coextensive  with  his  goods ;  he  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  separate  the  idea  of  himself  from  the  environing 
conditions  which  determined  his  welfare  and  station  in 
life.  The  same  mode  of  thought  made  him  think  of  God 
and  Christ  as  inseparable  from  the  material  conditions 
with  which  men  associate  them.  God  is  the  enthroned 
ruler  surrounded  by  the  emblems  of  power  and  dignity, 
and  served  by  angels  and  men.  Christ  is  the  suffering 
Saviour  nailed  to  the  cross,  a  propitiation  for  the  sins  of 
men.  When  men  begin  to  emphasize  their  psychic  as 
opposed  to  their  material  personality,  they  modify  also 
their  concept  of  God  and  Christ  and  picture  them  as 
pyschic  and  not  as  material  beings.  Christ  becomes  the 
emotional  Christ  who  sympathizes  with  men  and  suffers 
when  they  do  wrong.  The  evil  deeds  of  men  and  not  the 
nails  on  the  cross,  are  now  represented  as  the  source  of  His 
agony.  To  the  old  type  of  Christian  the  talk  of  '  driv- 
ing fresh  nails  into  the  cross '  would  have  been  meaning- 
less, because  to  him  the  suffering  and  sacrifice  of  Christ 
seemed  already  complete.  But  the  thought  is  full  of 
meaning  to  one  who  pictures  Christ  as  an  emotional  being 
hurt  by  every  fresh  act  of  sin.  Likewise  such  a  person 
does  not  picture  God  as  thinking  only  of  kingly  dignity 
and  precedent,  but  as  promoting  men's  welfare  earnestly 
and  actively,  and  as  being  willing  to  overlook  the  past 
transgressions  of  all  in  whom  there  is  hope  of  improve- 
ment. Pictures  of  the  throne  and  of  the  cross  were  not 
dwelt  upon  by  Wesley ;  his  God  and  Christ  were  beings 
of  activity,  feeling,  and  sympathy.  He  made  them  repre- 
sent active  forces  in  a  world  whose  one  thought  is  the 
salvation  of  men.  God  and  Christ  were  thus  brought 
near  to  men,  the  divine  and  the  human  merged  into  each 
other,  and  it  became  a  matter  of  indifference  whether 
Christ  was  thought  of  as  the  Son  of  God  or  as  a  perfect 
man.  The  ideal  of  perfection  and  of  brotherhood  with 
Christ  was  thus  opened  up  to  man.     Not  position  nor  en- 


THE  MORALISTS  261 

vironment,  but  emotion,  was  the  measure  of  perfection. 
He  was  most  nearly  perfect  whose  impulses  were  most 
like  Christ's  ;  by  being  like  Christ,  men  sank  all  differ- 
ences between  Him  and  them  and  became  in  the  truest  sense 
Sons  of  God.  These  doctrines  were  in  the  sharpest  contrast 
with  the  deistic  tendencies  of  the  age  which  kept  God  on 
His  throne  behind  the  most  distant  star,  and  conceived  of 
the  world  as  ruled  by  cold,  inflexible  rules.  After  the  de- 
struction of  His  pictures  in  the  churches  Christ  was  almost 
banished  from  the  Protestant  world  and  was  thought  of 
as  one  who  had  done  His  work  and  received  His  reward. 
The  new  psychic  standards  and  the  new  way  of  conceiv- 
ing the  divine,  gave  a  rude  shock  to  the  formal  Christians 
of  Wesley's  time,  who  could  not  readily  follow  the  curve 
of  his  thought  by  which  these  new  concepts  were  evolved. 
Though  he  started  as  a  formal  High  Churchman,  and  was 
dubbed  a  "  Methodist "  because  of  his  insistence  on  a  life 
by  objective  rule,  in  the  end  he  accepted  no  criterion  of  a 
new  birth  except  the  emotional  expression  of  the  inner 
self.  Curiously  enough,  the  only  class  of  religious  thinkers 
he  has  not  affected  are  the  High  Church  people  with  whom 
he  was  at  the  start  in  full  accord.  But  such  is  the  fate 
of  those  whose  thought  is  in  a  process  of  development. 
They  leave  their  friends  behind  and  influence  those  least 
like  themselves.  While  in  the  early  days  of  the  Church 
it  was  enough  to  accept  Christianity  and  receive  the  sacra- 
ments, and  after  the  Reformation  it  sufficed  to  profess  one- 
self to  be  a  good  Protestant,  these  objective  standards  were 
discarded  by  Wesley,  and  some  evidence  of  a  psychic  assur- 
ance of  salvation  was  demanded.  It  was  taught  that  he 
who  had  no  absolute  assurance  of  God's  favour  was  already 
damned,  for  there  was  no  middle  ground  between  heaven 
and  hell.  The  conventional  Christian  was  believed  to  be 
still  in  the  bondage  of  sin.  Up  to  Wesley's  time  the  line  had 
been  drawn  between  the  moral  and  the  immoral,  between 
the  Christian  and  the  sinner,  between  those  who  kept  the 


262  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

law  and  those  who  broke  it.  Under  Wesley,  the  "  worldly 
church  member"  and  the  non-emotional  Christian  who 
did  not  exhibit  "  outward  signs "  were  classed  with  the 
irreligious  and  depraved  and  were  believed  to  deserve  the 
same  condemnation.  So  long  as  objective  standards  of 
Christianity  are  used  there  are  definite  tests  for  church 
membership  which  put  all  who  stand  them  on  equal  foot- 
ing. But  psychic  tests  are  relative  and  intensive  with  no 
fixed  degree  of  emotion  as  a  standard  upon  which  all 
may  agree.  In  a  progressive  church  there  is  ever  a  ten- 
dency to  raise  the  standard,  and  to  class  people  among 
the  "  worldly  "  who  at  an  earlier  time  could  have  given 
satisfactory  evidence  of  their  sincerity.  No  matter  how 
high  the  standard,  a  new  wave  of  enthusiasm  will  change 
it,  drawing  the  line  so  that  many  earnest  people  fall  below 
it.  The  standard  being  set  by  the  better  element,  the 
others  are  left  behind  and  denounced  even  though  they 
may  be  growing  in  grace  and  fulfilling  the  law.  A 
psychic  standard  thus  divides  the  Church  into  two 
parts. 

The  practical  conditions  which  Wesley  had  to  face 
forced  him  to  emphasize  this  dividing  line.  He  did  not 
create  a  new  church  organization,  but  remained  in  the 
Church  of  England.  His  real  work  was  to  form  a  quasi- 
clan  within  this  Church.  Whoever  in  the  Church  paid  no 
attention  to  Wesley's  demands  became  in  his  eyes  a  worldly 
Christian,  and  as  much  out  of  God's  favour  as  if  he  were 
irreligious  or  immoral.  The  only  true  Christians  showed 
"  outward  signs  "  and  entered  his  organization.  There  is 
no  better  way  to  express  the  bond  that  made  Wesley's 
classes,  love  feasts,  and  assemblies  so  effective  than  to 
call  them  clans.  He  shrewdly  revived  an  old  feeling  that 
was  falling  into  decay  for  want  of  a  use.  A  Methodist 
had  the  same  sense  of  superiority  and  the  same  feeling  of 
opposition  to  outsiders  that  members  of  a  clan  have  to 
strangers.     This  is  the  inevitable  result  of  an  emotional 


THE  MORALISTS  263 

standard.  A  growth  of  psychic  ideals  can  stop  only  at 
perfection.  As  the  believer  comes  nearer  to  Christ,  His 
example  is  more  forcible  and  real,  and  Christ  becomes  a 
fellow-clansman.  In  the  clannish  sense  the  perfect  are 
all  sons  of  God.  "While  the  clan-feeling  binds  equals  to- 
gether it  at  the  same  time  generates  a  mental  attitude 
that  makes  men  hostile  to  others  beneath  or  different 
from  them.  No  matter  what  virtues  the  less  emotional 
exhibit,  the  charmed  circle  is  still  above  their  reach. 

While  psychic  standards  have  this  element  of  danger 
and  discord  in  them,  this  disadvantage  is  far  more  than 
counterbalanced  by  the  evils  such  standards  obviate. 
Objective  standards  depending  as  they  do  on  visible  dif- 
ferences lead  to  hair-splitting  and  creed-making.  People 
cannot  agree  as  to  what  objective  facts  and  ceremonies  are 
to  be  made  standards  or  what  relative  emphasis  is  to  be 
given.  Every  change  in  environment  creates  new  stand-^ 
ards  or  changes  the  emphasis  of  old  ones.  The  loose  use 
of  words  and  the  inexactness  of  all  translations  from  origi- 
nal sources  are  also  fruitful  causes  of  discord.  Psychic 
standards  destroy  all  this  nicety  of  distinction.  The  sen- 
sory impressions  made  by  objective  facts  are  many  and 
exact,  but  the  motor  impulses  created  by  objective  facts 
differ  not  in  kind,  but  in  degree.  They  can  be  distin- 
guished only  as  less  or  more  intense.  The  measurement 
of  character  in  terms  of  the  emotional  expression  of  the 
inner  self  destroys  all  differences  except  those  of  intensity. 
All  those  distinctions  based  on  differences  of  time,  space, 
family,  power,  and  other  environmental  causes  lose  their 
importance. 

By  promoting  social  organizations  and  uniting  worship- 
pers in  large  bodies  the  rise  of  Methodism  marked  the  de- 
cline of  creed-making  and  sect-building.  Had  its  triumph 
been  complete,  there  would  again  have  arisen  a  united 
church.  This  church  would  not  have  been  universal  in 
its  influence,  exerting   a  power  over  all  members  of  the 


264  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

community,  but  would  have  been  a  great  clan  —  influenc- 
ing its  members  much  more  than  the  old  church,  and  out- 
siders much  less,  or  not  at  all.  As  it  is,  however,  the 
Methodist  organizations  have  influenced  other  churches 
and  have  in  turn  been  influenced  by  them,  thus  making 
our  present  combination  of  objective  and  subjective  stand- 
ards. Wesley's  influence  is  most  marked  in  the  great 
non-sectarian  organizations  like  the  Christian  Endeavour 
Society,  the  Temperance  Movement,  and  the  various  reli- 
gious societies  for  young  men.  Here  the  psychic  element 
has  almost  displaced  the  objective  standards.  By  these 
societies  the  emotional  nature  has  received  most  cultiva- 
tion, and  a  new  concept  of  character  has  been  created. 
But  in  these  societies,  also,  the  tendencies  towards  per- 
fection and  the  ostracism  of  outsiders  are  marked.  The 
Christian  of  this  type  pities  the  depraved  and  dissipated, 
but  any  form  of  cold,  intellectual  moralism  that  teaches 
men  to  depend  upon  themselves  he  despises. 

It  is  possible  to  estimate  the  change  in  English  thought 
only  by  uniting  in  one  view  the  work  of  Wesley  and  of 
Adam  Smith.  Seldom  has  an  age  been  so  fortunate  as 
to  have  two  men  of  such  ability  working  in  different 
fields.  Each  was  unconscious  of  the  other's  aims,  and 
yet  the  results  could  not  have  been  better  unified  if  they 
had  been  consciously  planned.  Where  one  was  conserva- 
tive, the  other  was  radical.  Smith  held  firmly  to  the  old 
religion  of  nature,  and  thought  he  had  helped  to  substan- 
tiate its  position.  On  the  other  hand,  Wesley  was  a 
strong  Tory,  vigorous  in  his  opposition  to  the  cause  of 
the  American  colonies  and  to  the  reforms  for  which 
Smith  worked  so  successfully.  Had  the  prejudices  of 
each  dominated  England,  the  nation  would  have  entered 
the  present  century  with  but  little  change.  Fortunately, 
the  wisdom  of  each  bore  its  legitimate  fruit,  while  their 
prejudices  did  but  little  harm. 


THE  MORALISTS  265 

Figuratively  speaking,  one  might  say  that  Wesley  and 
Smith  found  English  wisdom  and  tradition  embodied  in 
a  temple  of  morality.  One  wing  Smith  tore  down  to  get 
the  material  for  his  new  economic  structure,  leaving  as 
he  supposed  the  other  wing  intact.  Wesley,  in  igno- 
rance of  Smith's  work,  pulled  down  the  other  wing  to  get 
material  for  his  new  religious  temple.  The  result  was 
that  the  whole  edifice  —  the  grand  temple  for  the  religion 
of  nature  —  upon  which  preceding  ages  had  bestowed  so 
much  labour,  came  tumbling  to  the  ground. 

To  put  this  thought  more  exactly,  Smith  divided  the  old 
moral  science  into  economics  and  morality,  but  included 
everything  in  economics  except  the  principle  of  sympathy, 
to  which  he  claimed  that  morality  should  be  limited.  Had 
he  been  more  observant,  he  would  have  known  that  Wesley 
had  already  appropriated  the  principle  of  sympathy  from 
morality  and  made  it  the  leading  religious  motive, 
Christ  being  the  idealization  of  sympathy.  Wesley,  also, 
as  we  have  seen,  made  serious  inroads  into  the  traditions 
and  the  objective  standards  of  the  English  people.  He 
thought,  however,  that  he  had  left  the  divine  right  of 
kings  and  other  Tory  principles  intact,  but  of  these  princi- 
ples Smith  had  made  short  work.  Thus  relieved  of  its 
tradition  and  moral  rules,  England  started  into  the  next 
period  completely  under  the  control  of  the  ideas  of  Wesley 
and  Smith. 

In  the  epoch  preceding  Wesley,  morality  and  natural 
religion  were  held  to  be  the  same,  and  the  study  of 
nature  was  supposed  to  give  men  definite  rules  of 
action  —  all  the  light  in  fact  that  was  needed  for  their 
guidance.  Revealed  religion  was  useless,  if  it  merely 
reiterated  the  laws  of  nature,  and  it  was  pernicious  if  it 
increased  or  changed  natural  laws.  The  same  thought  is 
expressed  in  the  writings  of  Rousseau.  Nature  is  the 
best  teacher,  and  contact  with  it  gives  men  the  principles 
upon  which   conduct   depends.     Nature's   rules   are  also 


266  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

eternal  and  unchangeable,  and  act  in  the  best  interests 
of  men.  That  mental  attitude  has  now  disappeared. 
Since  the  time  of  Darwin,  nature  has  been  viewed  as  a 
remorseless  force  as  often  crushing  as  promoting  the 
better  elements  in  humanity,  never  acting  on  a  higher 
principle  than  the  survival  of  the  fittest.  If  this  be  true, 
there  can  be  no  religion  of  nature  in  the  sense  that  the 
deists  used  that  term. 

Those  principles  of  conduct  so  often  associated  with 
the  name  of  nature  are  formulae  that  have  arisen  gradually 
out  of  the  concrete  conditions  in  which  the  race  has  de- 
veloped. Each  environment  makes  the  formulation  of 
certain  rules  of  action  possible  and  necessary.  As  a  race 
passes  from  environment  to  environment,  some  of  these 
rules  are  dropped,  being  no  longer  fitted  to  the  social 
needs,  but  others  are  found  still  available  or  at  least  par- 
tially so.  These  surviving  rules  that  are  found  adaptable 
in  various  social  environments  gain  in  universality  and  force 
by  every  change,  and  finally  acquire  such  validity  that 
they  seem  independent  of  environment,  and  imperative. 
But  they  do  not  differ  in  kind  from  concrete  customs 
and  traditions,  and  all  of  them  represent  the  restraining 
influence  of  the  past  on  the  present,  having  force  only 
in  so  far  as  past  conditions  resemble  the  present.  Morals 
might  be  defined  as  the  application  of  the  philosophic 
deductions  of  one  age  to  the  economic  conditions  of  later 
ages.  We  might  also  say  that  morals  are  rationalized 
customs,  habits,  and  traditions.  Either  statement  makes 
plain  the  part  that  the  intellect  plays  in  the  formulation 
of  moral  rules.  But  this  dependence  of  morals  upon  the 
intellect,  whereby  moral  rules  acquire  their  force  and  uni- 
versality, has  its  attendant  drawback.  The  intellect 
operates  only  on  past  experience,  and  its  formulations, 
although  valid  for  a  race  that  has  been  a  long  time  in  one 
environment,  are  defective  for  a  race  that  has  recently 
changed  its  environment.     The  English  race  is  of  this 


THE  MORALISTS  267 

kind.  Its  moral  formulae  arose  when  the  environment 
of  the  race  was  different  from  the  present.  These  for- 
mulas represent  foreign  influences,  and  thus  often  prompt 
men  to  actions  out  of  harmony  with  the  present  condi- 
tions. 

Roughly  speaking,  there  are  three  elements  in  a  civili- 
zation :  the  heart,  which  represents  inherited  impulses 
that  usually  express  themselves  in  a  religous  form ;  the 
life,  which  is  due  to  the  immediate  economic  surroundings  ; 
and  the  head  or  intellect,  which  reflects  the  influence  of 
past  conditions  on  the  present.  When  great  changes  take 
place,  the  economic  life  readily  adjusts  itself  to  the  new 
conditions.  The  heart  cannot  adjust  itself  without  a 
violent  struggle,  but  when  the  struggle  comes,  there  is 
an  immediate  crisis  followed  by  a  complete  conversion 
through  which  the  inherited  motor  impulses  are  disasso- 
ciated from  the  old  objective  stimuli,  and  are  made  to 
respond  to  the  stimuli  of  the  new  environment.  It  often 
happens  that  the  religious  impulses  are  directed  into  en- 
tirely new  channels  by  a  conversion,  and  converts  of  this 
kind  are  noted  for  the  zeal  with  which  they  accept  the 
new  views.  The  life  and  heart  can  thus  be  brought  into 
harmony  with  new  conditions,  but  there  is  no  process  cor- 
responding to  a  conversion  by  which  the  products  of  intel- 
lectual operations  can  be  readily  adjusted.  We  often  talk  01V 
convincing  people  by  argument,  but  no  one  is  thus  convinced 
except  on  points  of  small  importance,  and  by  those  who  hold 
the  same  general  views.  There  is  a  good  reason  for  this 
failure.  Principles,  customs,  and  habits  are  never  based 
wholly  on  present  experience,  and  cannot  be  reversed  by 
present  experience  alone.  Nor  is  there  any  one  set  of  past 
experiences  on  which  they  depend.  They  are  the  outcome 
of  many  groups  of  conditions  found  in  divers  past  environ- 
ments. A  survey  of  the  whole  history  of  the  race  is  neces- 
sary to  establish  them  anew,  or  to  reject  them.  Many  of 
the  essential  elements  of  this  race  history  are  now  absent, 


268  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

and  as  a  result  principles,1  creeds,  and  other  intellectual 
formulae  cannot  be  recast  even  by  the  tribunal  that  estab- 
lished them.  They  die  out  only  by  a  slow  process,  and  are 
replaced  by  another  process  even  more  slow  in  its  opera- 
tions. But  in  the  meantime  the  race  is  without  the  proper 
guidance  in  matters  where  the  intellect  is  the  best  judge. 
Impulses  and  economic  desires  sway  the  race  without  any 
adequate  mental  restraint.  This  attitude  of  mind  I  call 
non-moral.  The  race  may  as  a  whole  be  under  better 
conditions  than  before,  and  its  immoral  tendencies  better 
checked.  People  may  talk  about  principles  and  creeds  as 
much  as  ever,  but  they  apply  them  only  when  they  con- 
form with  the  dominant  impulses  and  desires.  The  prin- 
ciples cannot  withstand  these  latter  forces,  nor  have  the 
principles  any  power  to  act  alone.  Non-morality,  if  com- 
plete, means  a  paralysis  of  the  intellectual  forces  that 
restrain  activity. 

It  is  possible  to  reach  the  same  general  conclusion  re- 
specting moral  principles  by  attributing  their  decay  to  a 
psychic  instead  of  an  intellectual  change.  Principles  do 
not  enforce  themselves.  There  must  be  some  psychic 
response  —  some  motor  outgoing  of  the  self  by  which  the 
activity  of  the  thinker  is  brought  into  harmony  with  his 
thought.  Adam  Smith  asserted  that  the  source  of  moral- 
ity lay  in  the  feeling  of  sympathy,  but,  as  we  have  seen, 
that  feeling  is  too  intimately  associated  with  religion  to 
become  a  force  by  which  the  cold,  intellectual  processes 
can  be  enforced.  To-day  we  see  more  clearly  than  Smith 
did  that  unguided  sympathy  is  often  immoral.  Modern 
charity  furnishes  a  good  example  of  how  sympathy  may 
promote  more  evils  than  it  checks.     A  feeling  that  needs 

1  Principles  of  this  kind  are  often  called  necessary  or  innate.  It  would 
be  better  to  call  them  irrevocable.  Being  created  by  a  complex  and  long, 
continual  process,  they  cannot  be  controverted  except  by  another  process 
equally  long  and  complex.  The  people  of  a  given  age  are  forced  to  ac- 
cept them  along  with  other  parts  of  their  civilization. 


THE  MORALISTS  269 

the  intellect  to  guide  it  aright  cannot  itself  be  the  force 
which  gives  an  intellectual  process  its  sanction.  We 
must,  therefore,  seek  the  sanction  of  morality  in  an  older 
and  more  fundamental  feeling.  Pain  gives  rise  to  two 
kinds  of  feeling.  Either  a  desire  to  approach  and  destroy 
the  cause  of  pain  which  is  called  wrath,  or  else  a  shrinking 
from  it  which  is  called  fear.  The  first  of  these  feelings 
is  the  source  of  morality.  Where  there  is  no  resentment 
at  the  sight  of  pain,  morality  cannot  exist.  The  root  of 
sympathy,  however,  plainly  lies  in  a  shrinking  from  pain. 
The  qualities  developed  by  it  are  not  morality,  but  good- 
ness. 

These  two  standards,  though  so  often  confused,  are  in 
reality  quite  distinct.  The  moral  man,  moved  by  wrath, 
resents  forcefully  any  deviation  from  accepted  standards 
or  any  interference  with  his  individual  rights.  The  sym- 
pathetic good  man  endures  anything  rather  than  break 
with  his  friends.  It  never  occurs  to  him  to  resent  an 
evil ;  he  bears  it  patiently  or  strives  to  remove  it.  This 
mode  of  meeting  disagreeable  situations  is  the  outcome  of 
the  development  of  family  life.  According  to  prevailing 
standards  the  good  husband  never  is  wrathful  or  forceful 
at  home.  The  manly  man,  who  is  always  forceful  and  often 
wrathful,  has  not  succeeded  in  family  life  so  well  as  the 
womanly  man,  who  submits  cheerfully  to  the  inevitable. 
Goodness  as  it  is  now  understood  means  the  qualities  en- 
abling men  to  get  on  smoothly  in  family  life.  It  is  a 
familiar  saying  that  the  test  of  a  good  husband  is  his 
ability  to  put  up  a  stovepipe  without  swearing.  That  is 
to  say,  the  feeling  of  resentment  must  have  become  im- 
possible to  him.  Though  the  good  man  succeeds  in  family 
and  social  life,  he  lacks  some  of  the  motor  reactions  needed 
in  the  outer  world.  This  deficiency  is  implied  in  the 
thought  so  often  expressed  that  certain  individuals  are 
"too  good  to  live."  We  never  say  that  men  are  too 
moral  to  live.     Goodness,  being  an  over-development  of 


270  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

qualities  needed  for  domestic  happiness,  lacks  the  even- 
ness and  breadth  of  morality.  This  narrower  ideal  of 
goodness,  was  encouraged  by  the  new  economic  and  reli- 
gious influences.  The  economists  said  peace  at  any  price 
with  other  nations,  while  the  religious  teachers  said  peace 
at  any  price  in  the  family.  Both  thus  destroyed  the 
reactions  against  pain  that  lie  at  the  root  of  moral 
motives.  The  feeling  of  the  solidarity  of  responsibility 
disappeared  when  economic  principles  based  on  self- 
interest  favoured  individualism.  And  the  religious  ideals 
bringing  the  worshipper  into  direct  contact  with  his  God 
made  salvation  an  individual  instead  of  a  national  affair. 
The  old  Christian  got  his  assurance  in  the  covenant 
that  existed  between  his  nation  and  his  God ;  national 
prosperity  was  the  index  of  divine  favour.  The  new 
Christian  relied  for  his  assurance  on  his  motor  outgoings, 
his  "outward  signs,"  as  he  called  them,  and  as  these 
were  individual  they  had  little  connection  with  national 
welfare  or  the  state  of  other  people's  minds.  To  have 
force,  morality  must  be  a  general  feeling,  but  the  new 
religion  with  its  psychic  standards  divided  each  com- 
munity into  two  parts  and  severed  their  common  interests. 
The  more  intense  the  religious  spirit  became,  the  more  was 
its  force  directed  against  the  members  of  the  community 
who  did  not  feel  its  influence,  instead  of  as  formerly 
against  national  foes  and  evils.  Protestantism  spent  its 
force  in  national  struggles.  Methodism,  by  creating  an 
internal  struggle,  weakened  the  old  feeling  of  solidarity  of 
responsibility.  Like  economics,  therefore,  it  tended  to 
create  a  non-moral  state  of  mind.  The  new  ideals  of 
goodness  and  perfection  influenced  many  persons  more 
strongly  than  the  old  moral  rules,  but  they  influenced 
others  less,  and  thus  heightened  the  opposition  between 
the  two  classes.  An  intensive  religion,  losing  sight  of  the 
interests  of  the  imperfect,  demands  only  the  success  and 
survival  of  the  perfect.     Morality,  however,  being  exten- 


THE   MORALISTS  271 

sive  in  its  aim,  is  realized  in  equality  and  distributive 
justice.  There  is  thus  between  the  two  tendencies  an 
opposition  which  makes  itself  felt  in  spite  of  endeavours  to 
effect  a  compromise  between  them. 

This  non-moral  attitude  is  a  marked  characteristic  of 
the  classes  that  now  dominate  English  civilization.  Differ- 
ent as  these  classes  are  in  many  respects,  they  agree  in 
showing  a  marked  antipathy  against  some  integral  part  of 
society.  The  revivalist  and  the  temperance  reformer  de- 
nounce the  "  sinner,"  the  "  worldling,"  and  the  "  drinker  " 
in  unmeasured  terms,  and  would  gladly  exclude  them  from 
society.  The  mother  unrelentingly  persecutes  the  "  social 
outcast,"  and  shuts  her  door  against  women  a  little  lower 
in  the  social  scale  than  herself.  Viewed  internally,  the 
modern  home  is  a  great  blessing,  but  it  acts  as  a  crushing 
force  upon  those  who  are  denied  its  benefits.  The  busi- 
ness man  draws  a  sharp  line  between  himself  and  his  em- 
ployees, and  does  not  hesitate  to  exploit  them  to  his 
advantage.  The  workman  in  his  turn  vigorously  opposes 
those  who  work  for  less  than  the  union  rate.  In  public 
affairs  the  stalwart  constantly  sets  new  and  bolder  stand- 
ards, having  some  new  principle,  doctrine,  or  catching 
phrase,  the  acceptance  of  which  alone  entitles  other  per- 
sons to  a  consideration.  In  party  affairs  any  less  degree 
of  loyalty  than  his  own  is  a  cause  for  complete  disfranchise- 
ment of  the  offender,  and  if  this  sign  of  party  devotion 
becomes  general,  new  tests  of  subserviency  are  set  up 
which  again  make  him  master  of  the  situation. 

In  what  has  nominally  remained  the  field  of  morals 
these  tendencies  have  been  as  pronounced  as  elsewhere. 
The  utilitarians  contended  that  they  set  forth  a  great 
moral  principle,  but  their  doctrine  that  the  test  of  action 
is  the  greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number  is  quite  as 
capable  of  a  non-moral  application  as  are  the  doctrines 
and  ideas  of  the  other  classes.  The  doctrine  becomes 
immoral  when  in  each  application  of  its  principle  the  same 


272  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

minority  suffers  in  the  interest  of  the  same  greater  num- 
ber. And  this  is  what  happens  when  the  tests  of  ex- 
pediency are  put  upon  a  strictly  economic  basis.  Those 
who  are  economically  prosperous  are  always  in  that  greater 
number  whose  welfare  is  promoted,  while  those  poorly 
equipped  for  the  battle  for  life  are  always  among  the 
minority  whose  interests  are  neglected.  No  sooner  did 
the  utilitarians  discover  their  great  principle  than  they 
also  found  that  more  were  born  into  the  world  than  could 
be  provided  for,  or,  as  it  was  put,  that  Nature  had  not 
set  enough  plates  at  her  table  for  all  her  children.  They 
reasoned,  therefore,  that  it  was  not  their  fault  if  the 
unprovided-for  went  without  their  dinner ;  and  they  even 
asserted  that  it  would  only  make  matters  worse  to  divide 
with  them.  A  philosophy  was  developed  in  support  of 
this  proposition,  which  was  ever  ready  to  be  applied.  In 
practice  there  has  never  been  a  class  in  England  so  re- 
morseless as  the  utilitarians  in  their  neglect  of  the  weak. 
More  conscious  than  others  in  their  disregard  of  the 
solidarity  of  responsibility,  they  broke  openly  with  every 
principle  that  did  not  favour  individual  interests.  Their 
doctrine  must  therefore  be  classed  with  the  other  non- 
moral  tendencies  creating  the  habits  of  thought  which 
have  dominated  the  nineteenth  century.  They  would 
have  completely  ruined  the  science  of  political  economy 
which  they  fathered  and  attempted  to  apply  had  not  John 
Stuart  Mill  broken  away  from  their  teachings.  Like  other 
influential  groups  the  utilitarians  have  helped  the  race  to 
realize  the  beauty  of  loftier  standards  and  nobler  aspira- 
tions, but  the  lesson  has  been  at  the  expense  of  social 
equality. 

In  saying  that  the  classes  influenced  by  the  new  ideals 
of  goodness  and  perfection  were  non-moral,  I  do  not  mean 
to  imply  that  they  were  not  conscientious  ;  on  the  contrary, 
they  were  as  a  rule  over-conscientious.  Conscientiousness 
is  a  motor  feeling  prompting  or  prohibiting  certain  con- 


THE   MORALISTS  273 

crete  deeds ;  morality  is  a  rule  of  action  determined  by 
the  intellect.  The  sanction  of  morality  is  a  feeling  of 
satisfaction  derived  from  making  one's  conduct  conform 
to  general  rules  which  promote  general  welfare.  For 
morality  to  exist,  the  thought  of  a  unified  society  is 
necessary,  without  which  the  intellect  could  not  formu- 
late general  rules  of  universal  validity.  Conscience  is  a 
feeling  of  pain  arising  when  the  feeling  of  personal  in- 
tegrity is  violated.  A  conscientious  person  thinks  of  the 
gains  and  losses  to  his  personality ;  his  rules  and  precepts 
relate  to  his  own  experience,  and  are  derived  from  the 
conditions  of  his  immediate  environment.  These  rules 
therefore  are  more  concrete  than  moral  rules,  and  lose 
their  definiteness  and  vigour  when  they  are  so  general- 
ized as  to  become  social  and  moral.  Conscientious  people 
are  fond  of  concrete  rules  that  they  can  use  dialectically 
and  dogmatically.  There  can  be  no  conscience  without 
character  and  a  feeling  of  integrity,  and  there  can  be 
no  morality  without  an  ideal  of  society  by  which  the 
feeling  of  the  solidarity  of  responsibility  is  aroused. 

The  new  tendencies  that  affected  England  through 
Smith  and  Wesley  made  the  people  more  individual,  more 
local  in  their  feelings  than  they  would  have  been  if  the 
moral  tendencies  of  the  earlier  part  of  the  century  had 
remained  dominant.  The  change  led  to  an  emphasis  of 
local  conditions,  a  distrust  of  general  principles,  and  a 
distaste  for  foreign  innovations.  In  business  life,  in  the 
home,  and  in  religion  concrete  rules  due  to  present  con- 
ditions acquired  a  validity  superior  to  principles  and 
customs  of  long  standing.  Like  economics,  an  intensive 
religion  emphasizes  present  needs  and  evils,  and  adopts 
concrete  methods  of  attaining  or  preventing  them.  The 
traditions,  the  ritual,  and  the  customs  of  the  past  were 
discredited,  and  in  their  place  arose  new  habits  of  thought 
and  rules  of  action  which  harmonized  more  fully  with 
new  conditions.     England  steadily  differentiated  herself 


274  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

from  her  past  and  from  other  countries,  but  her  people 
became  individual  and  forceful  as  they  became  less  cos- 
mopolitan. The  new  religion  and  economics  thus  brought 
many  more  blessings  than  evils.  Had  Englishmen  at  the 
close  of  the  century  been  less  concrete  in  their  thought 
and  less  local  in  their  habits,  they  could  not  have  played 
the  part  they  did  in  the  conflicts  opening  the  new  epoch, 
to  which  we  must  now  turn. 


CHAPTER   V 

THE  ECONOMISTS 

For  a  long  period  France  had  dominated  Europe.  In 
the  same  sense  that  to-day  we  say  Paris  is  France,  then 
France  was  Europe.  There  civilization  and  culture  were 
centred,  and  the  French  language  and  manners  were 
everywhere  accepted  as  standards.  As  the  development 
of  French  industrial  conditions  preceded  that  in  other 
parts  of  Europe,  population  reached  its  normal  level  in 
France  sooner  than  elsewhere.  The  limits  to  a  country's 
growth  are  set  by  its  area  and  physical  conditions.  As 
France  practically  reached  these  limits  at  an  early  date, 
it  had  a  large,  well-concentrated  population,  whose  ser- 
vices and  resources  could  be  utilized  in  struggles  with 
other  states  which  were  poorly  developed  and  occupied 
by  scattered,  loosely  organized  races,  devoid  of  national 
feeling. 

Comparing  the  physical  resources  of  France  and  Ger- 
many, one  wonders  that  France  so  long  dominated  Ger- 
many, for  Germany  had  then,  as  now,  superior  physical 
advantages.  But  the  German  government  was  slow  in 
developing  these  advantages,  and  the  obstacles  to  social 
progress  prevented  her  people  from  utilizing  them.  She 
was  therefore  an  easy  prey  to  French  intrigue  and  am- 
bition. But  in  the  eighteenth  century  France  had  so 
nearly  reached  the  bounds  set  by  her  physical  conditions 
that  her  progress  became  slow,  while  the  other  nations 
with  less  developed  resources  came  forward  by  leaps  and 
bounds.  In  Germany,  and  more  especially  in  England, 
the  progress  was  marvellous,  and  the  old  disadvantages 

275 


276  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

were  steadily  overcome.  Large  tracts  of  land  were 
brought  into  cultivation,  roads  were  improved,  cities 
grew  rapidly,  the  industrial  arts  of  all  kinds  made  great 
progress,  and  with  these  changes  came  a  steady  growth  of 
population  and  wealth. 

The  supremacy  of  France  was  necessarily  affected  by 
these  changes.  Sooner  or  later  France  was  doomed  to 
yield  and  shrink  to  her  natural  position  on  the  map  of 
Europe.  Pluck,  bravery,  and  organization  may  win  single 
campaigns,  but  they  cannot  withstand  a  steadily  growing 
deficiency  in  economic  resources.  A  brave,  enterprising 
people  could  not  accept  this  fate  without  a  struggle ;  but 
it  speaks  well  for  France  that  it  took  all  Europe  a  century 
to  reduce  her  to  her  proper  position.  Sedan,  however, 
was  inevitable  from  the  start ;  for  France  could  not  resist 
the  evils  that  flowed  from  the  loss  of  her  economic  superi- 
ority. The  account  of  this  struggle  against  fate  makes  a 
brilliant  episode  in  history,  with  thrilling  details,  capable 
of  being  presented  in  a  series  of  vivid  pictures.  Its  im- 
portance has  been  overestimated,  however,  for  it  teaches 
only  the  simple  lesson  that  a  nation  cannot  successfully 
struggle  against  great  economic  disadvantages. 

These  thrilling  details  and  vivid  pictures  influenced 
especially  England,  because  of  the  peculiar  state  of  the 
public  mind  at  the  time.  1  have  pointed  out  the  great 
transformation  in  national  thought  that  had  taken  place, 
and  the  gradual  acquisition  of  a  non-moral  attitude,  which 
did  not  please  those  who  retained  the  old  standards.  They 
believed  the  nation  was  approaching  moral  and  social  ruin, 
and  to  prove  their  case  they  sought  the  facts  and  events 
furnished  by  the  disorganized  state  of  French  society. 
That  the  wickedness  and  vice  in  France  were  the  causes 
of  her  decline  seemed  to  them  self-evident,  and  it  was 
equally  evident  to  them  that  England  would  soon  suffer 
a  similar  fate  unless  public  opinion  and  private  conduct 
were  altered. 


THE   ECONOMISTS  277 

I  have  also  called  attention  to  the  lull  in  prophetic 
activity  that  occurred  in  the  early  part  of  the  century. 
The  plagues,  famines,  religious  wars,  and  other  evils  with 
which  prophets  are  wont  to  enforce  their  lessons  had 
ceased.  Even  Wesley's  zealous  search  for  signs  of  God's 
wrath  was  rewarded  with  nothing  more  than  the  Lisbon 
earthquake  and  the  sliding  of  a  Yorkshire  rock.  He  and 
others  of  his  class  were  compelled — much  to  their  advan- 
tage —  to  resort  to  other  means  of  promoting  moral  reform. 
The  French  Revolution,  however,  gave  new  life  to  the 
prophetic  spirit.  The  bloodshed,  the  crimes,  and  the 
social  disorders  in  France  created  a  new  feeling  of  in- 
security, for  all  these  seemed  to  show  that  the  spirit  of 
innovation,  moral  turpitude,  and  disregard  of  law  were 
bearing  legitimate  fruit. 

The  prophets  and  the  moralists  in  England,  having  thus 
a  common  cause,  exploited  the  crimes  and  social  disorders 
of  France  in  order  to  oppose  reforms  they  disliked,  and  to 
popularize  their  own  remedies  for  English  ills.  Unfortu- 
nately the  English  people  knew  but  little  of  France,  and 
this  little  they  learned  from  blood-curdling  histories  or 
heard  on  the  boulevards  of  Paris.  They  were  unable  to 
interpret  correctly  the  passing  events  in  France.  In  spite 
of  all  that  has  been  said,  no  nation  ever  met  an  unavoida- 
ble disaster  more  courageously,  or  bore  its  evils  more 
nobly.  Other  nations  under  like  circumstances  have  lost 
their  vigour  and  allowed  their  civilization  to  decline.  In 
the  face  of  defeat  France,  however,  has  steadily  improved 
her  civilization,  increased  her  frugality,  and  developed 
her  resources.  Her  moral  progress  compares  favourably 
with  that  of  other  nations;  and  the  loss  of  life  in  her 
revolutions,  of  which  much  has  been  made,  was  less  in 
amount  than  an  epidemic  of  smallpox  would  have  caused. 
It  is  a  craving  for  excitement  that  home  events  will  not 
satisfy,  and  a  desire  to  substantiate  doctrines  not  justified 
by  English  experience  that  induce  Englishmen  to  take 


278  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

a  false  view  of  the  evils  against  which  France  has  struggled, 
and  to  force  relatively  unimportant  facts  into  the  foreground. 

For  the  real  causes  of  the  changes  during  this  epoch 
we  must  look  to  another  quarter  than  Paris,  for  town  life 
merely  reflected  changes  that  country  conditions  had  cre- 
ated. The  struggle  in  France  was  really  a  struggle  for 
wheat.  Every  social  problem  in  some  way  took  its  rise 
in  the  condition  of  the  wheat  market,  a  fact  made  clear 
by  examining  the  curve  that  represents  the  price  of  wheat 
during  the  epoch.  The  deficiency  in  the  supply  of  wheat 
was  first  noticed  in  1757,  when  a  remarkably  short  crop 
forced  up  its  price,  and  the  situation  did  not  improve  with 
the  better  years  that  followed.  The  price  continued  to 
rise,  and  the  abnormally  high  value  was  maintained  for 
over  a  century.  England,  instead  of  exporting  wheat, 
began  to  import  it,  and  as  a  consequence  the  commercial 
relations  of  all  other  nations  were  altered. 

It  will  make  my  thought  clearer  to  compare  this  wheat 
curve  with  the  curve  that  represents  the  decline  of  the 
power  of  France.  The  upward  movement  in  the  price  of 
wheat  began  in  1757  at  the  opening  of  the  Seven  Years' 
War,  during  which  France  lost  her  American  colonies  and 
witnessed  the  beginning  of  her  decline.  The  price  of 
wheat  finally  dropped  to  its  normal  level  in  1873,  two 
years  after  the  final  conquest  of  France  by  the  Germans. 
In  a  rough  way  the  wheat  curve  and  the  curve  represent- 
ing the  power  of  France  correspond  during  the  interval. 
I  speak  of  this  only  to  show  how  deceptive  were  appear- 
ances, and  how  plausible  was  the  belief  that  French  events 
were  the  real  causes  of  the  changes  that  were  taking 
place.  The  revolution  in  commerce,  industry,  social  philos- 
ophy and  in  national  ideals  would  have  gone  on  just  the 
same  if  France  had  submitted  quietly  to  the  inevitable 
loss  of  power  and  to  the  rule  of  the  Bourbons.  She  did 
not  alter  the  course  of  history  by  her  bold  struggle  for  su- 
premacy, but  simply  made  history  more  interesting. 


THE  ECONOMISTS  279 

To  understand  how  a  single  product  could  acquire  such 
an  importance  that  the  history  of  an  epoch  could  be  made 
by  its  scarcity,  the  reader  must  be  familiar  with  English 
social  philosophy.  Wheat  had  long  been  a  leading  crop 
in  England,  and  had  been  accepted  as  the  measure  of 
wages  and  of  welfare.  Probably  wages  were  paid  in 
wheat  before  the  use  of  money  became  general;  it  may 
be  that  at  an  earlier  time  wealth  was  measured  in  wheat 
just  as  in  other  countries  it  was  measured  in  cattle,  land, 
or  similar  commodities.  Certainly  these  commodity  stand- 
ards had  been  long  in  use  and  were  generally  accepted. 
It  is  impossible  to  understand  the  reasoning  of  Adam 
Smith  without  knowing  his  view  of  the  importance  of  this 
commodity,  for  his  reasoning  is  that  all  value  is  measured 
in  labour,  but  labour  in  turn  has  its  value  fixed  by  the 
price  of  wheat.  Thus  his  whole  economic  philosophy 
turns  on  the  value  of  wheat.  He  reasons  even  more 
rigidly,  for  he  assumes  that  each  labourer's  family  con- 
sumes a  peck  of  wheat  a  week,  so  that  a  nation  can  have 
no  more  weeks'  labour  than  it  has  pecks  of  wheat.  The 
harvest  is  a  wheat  harvest,  and  it  is  the  result  of  the  capi- 
talists' forethought.  As  all  the  advances  of  capital  are  at 
bottom  only  pecks  of  wheat,  there  can  be  no  more  labour 
employed  than  there  are  pecks  of  wheat  stored  up  from 
the  last  harvest. 

These  assumptions  appear  again  in  his  reasoning  about 
the  benefits  bestowed  by  capital  upon  labour,  which  is  as 
follows :  A  capitalist  must  use  his  capital  in  a  way  ad- 
vantageous to  labourers,  since  he,  like  all  others,  can  but 
consume  his  peck  of  wheat  a  week,  and  for  the  rest  of  his 
stock  he  can  find  no  use  but  in  employing  labourers. 
When  the  wheat  comes  on  the  market  it  is  certain  that  all 
of  it  will  pass  into  the  hands  of  the  labourers,  and  be  con- 
sumed by  them  in  exchange  for  their  labour.  The  only 
way  a  capitalist  can  injure  labourers  is  by  setting  some  of 
them  to  work  producing  luxuries,  instead  of  producing 


280  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

wheat.  But  this  is  no  present  evil,  for  work  will  be  as 
plenty  as  ever  while  the  present  crop  holds  out.  But  in 
the  reduction  of  the  succeeding  wheat  crop  lies  the  real 
evil,  for  then  the  demand  for  labour  must  fall  off.  This 
is  the  essence  of  the  famous  wage-fund  theory. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  examine  the  validity  of  this 
reasoning.  Its  importance  consists  in  the  fact  that  it  was 
generally  accepted,  and  that  wheat  was  talked  of  and 
reasoned  about  as  if  its  cultivation  were  the  only  national 
industry.  Men's  capacity  for  consuming  goods  was  meas- 
ured by  their  capacity  to  consume  bread ;  and  as  this  ca- 
pacity is  nearly  the  same  in  all  men  it  was  assumed  that 
all  men  were  practically  on  the  same  footing  in  industrial 
affairs.  Though  capitalists  had  more  responsibilities  than 
labourers,  and  were  the  guardians  of  the  national  supply 
of  wheat,  nevertheless  when  the  wheat  was  ready  for  con- 
sumption they  got  only  an  equal  share  with  the  others. 
Every  man  had  enough,  and  no  one  could  well  eat  more 
than  enough  —  a  philosophy  of  equality  which,  once  per- 
ceived and  visualized,  made  men  eager  to  put  the  theory 
into  practice.  As  the  struggle  for  equality  was  a  neces- 
sary consequence  of  this  idealization  of  bread,  the  French 
Revolution  must  be  regarded  as  a  veritable  bread  riot. 

In  earlier  times  the  English  people  cooked  before  an  open 
fire,  and  consequently  the  food  was  soft  and  moist.  The 
superiority  of  wheat  became  very  marked  when  ovens 
made  a  dry  preparation  of  food  possible.  Besides,  it  was 
the  only  one  of  the  cereals  that  was  easily  raised  with 
yeast,  and  wheat  bread  made  much  better  toast  than  other 
breads  —  the  importance  of  which  fact  was  apparent  as 
soon  as  tea  came  into  general  use.  The  use  of  porridge, 
soup,  and  soft  foods  became  a  mark  of  inferiority,  and 
every  one  sought  to  make  the  change  to  bread  and  other 
oven-baked  food.  The  result  was  that  wheat  bread  be- 
came the  standard  of  comfort  and  stood  for  a  qualitative 
diet  as  clearly  as  porridge  and  soup  did  for  a  mere  quan- 


THE  ECONOMISTS  281 

titative  one.  These  dry  foods  were  supplemented  by  the 
better  malt  drinks  that  were  coming  into  use.  Thus  the 
oven  and  the  brewery  worked  together  in  producing  a 
qualitative  diet  and  a  new  standard  of  comfort. 

In  the  third  quarter  of  the  eighteenth  century  English 
economic  ideas  were  hospitably  received  in  France  along 
with  other  foreign  ideas.  The  difference  between  French 
and  English  development  is  largely  due  to  the  fact  that 
France  received  and  assimilated  the  results  of  two  English 
epochs  of  development  at  the  same  time.  The  intensity 
of  religious  prejudices  kept  France  from  feeling  the  force 
of  the  sceptical  and  analytical  ideas  of  the  Lockian  epoch 
until  long  after  they  had  spent  their  force  in  England. 
The  doctrine  of  liberty  also  belongs  to  the  earlier  English 
epoch  ;  but  its  perception  was  delayed  in  France,  and  so 
became  associated  with  the  ideal  of  equality.  England 
struggled  for  liberty  in  one  century,  for  comfort  in  the 
next,  and  for  equality  in  a  third.  France  struggled  for 
all  three  at  once  ;  hence  the  fierceness  of  the  struggle  and 
the  boldness  with  which  these  revolutionary  ideas  were 
conceived.  The  orderly  development  by  epochs,  which 
permitted  England  to  pass  successfully  through  great 
changes,  did  not  take  place  in  France.  The  reasoning  of 
the  French  revolutionists  depended  upon  foreign  facts  and 
events  much  more  than  did  the  reasoning  of  the  progres- 
sive party  in  England.  The  French  broke  with  the  con- 
ditions of  their  own  environment  to  a  greater  extent  than 
did  the  English ;  and  as  a  result  they  lacked  the  steadying 
influence  that  environmental  conditions  exert. 

The  squalor  and  poverty  that  existed  in  France  before 
the  Revolution  have  been  so  often  exaggerated  that  it  is 
thought  the  Revolution  was  due  to  a  lack  of  food.  This 
is  a  mistake,  for  French  economic  conditions,  like  those 
of  Europe  generally,  had  been  improving  for  a  century. 
If  economic  progress  in  France  was  less  marked  than 
elsewhere,  it  was   because  France  started   into   the  cen- 


282  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

tury  in  advance  of  other  nations,  and  had  already  passed 
through  some  of  the  stages  through  which  other  nations 
were  to  pass  more  rapidly.  The  cry  for  bread  was  not  a 
cry  for  food,  but  for  comfort.  As  the  people  improved 
their  condition,  growing  tired  of  onions,  cabbage,  and 
soup,  they  demanded  the  same  standards  as  the  upper 
classes.  The  salient  fact  of  the  standard  carried  with 
it  all  the  complementary  facts,  for  with  the  desire  for 
bread  would  come  all  that  is  needed  for  its  best  con- 
sumption. 

A  revolution  created  by  economic  causes  is  usually 
misinterpreted  because  it  is  forgotten  that  progress  and 
not  poverty  breeds  discontent.  People  who  are  really 
starving  are  satisfied  with  anything  that  fills  the  stomach. 
Contentment  hinges  upon  a  quantitative  standard  which 
brutes  as  well  as  men  can  feel.  Comfort  rests  upon  an 
intensive  or  qualitative  standard,  having  no  objective  meas- 
urement, and  with  a  rapid  upward  movement  out  of  all 
proportion  to  the  means  of  attaining  it.  If  the  standard 
of  a  typical  family  demand  four  hundred  and  fifty  dollars, 
and  their  income  is  four  hundred  dollars,  the  addition  of 
fifty  dollars  to  their  receipts  will  not  make  them  satisfied. 
They  will  want  at  least  five  hundred  and  twenty-five  dol- 
lars to  make  them  comfortable,  for  each  addition  to  income 
raises  the  standard  beyond  the  means  of  gratification. 
Prosperity  thus  increases  the  struggle  for  income  and 
spreads  social  discontent.  Every  addition  of  X  to  the 
national  income  enlarges  the  wants  of  the  people  by  X 
plus  Y.  It  is  the  endeavour  of  the  people  to  get  this  Y 
that  creates  the  revolutions.  The  poor,  assuming  that  the 
rich  have  this  extra  Y,  raise  the  cry  to  get  rid  of  the 
drones  and  to  give  the  whole  national  income  to  the 
workers.  The  funded  surplus  in  the  form  of  income  from 
lands  and  stocks  and  bonds,  largely  in  the  hands  of  a  leis- 
ure class,  gives  colour  to  the  view  that  the  poor  are 
wronged.     The  existence  of  this  surplus,  however,  makes 


THE  ECONOMISTS  283 

it  possible  for  the  income  of  the  common  people  to  receive 
an  addition  greater  than  the  whole  amount  added  by  pros- 
perity to  the  national  income ;  and  that  is  what  happens 
in  periods  of  great  industrial  change,  whether  brought 
about  by  peaceable  or  by  violent  means.  In  each  succes- 
sive stage  of  social  progress  the  so-called  drones  receive  a 
smaller  per  cent  of  the  national  income,  so  that  the  in- 
comes of  the  workers  increase  more  rapidly  than  their 
productive  power.  A  compromise  is  thereby  effected 
which  temporarily  satisfies  the  conditions  of  progress  and 
ensures  internal  quiet. 

This  theory  of  prosperity  throws  light  on  the  motive 
of  the  French  revolutionists.  The  increase  of  their  pro- 
ductive power  being  too  slow  to  give  the  desired  comfort, 
they  were  forced  to  grasp  at  the  funded  income  of  others. 
As  the  political  condition  of  France  at  the  time  permitted 
the  easy  seizure  of  the  funded  income,  quiet  might  have 
been  quickly  restored  but  for  the  new  relations  in  which 
France  stood  to  the  other  European  nations.  It  is  to  be 
remembered  that  there  is  an  international  as  well  as  a 
national  surplus.  When  the  French  people  were  taking 
the  funded  surplus  from  their  lords,  better  economic  con- 
ditions enabled  other  nations  to  appropriate  a  larger  share 
of  the  international  surplus  to  the  detriment  of  France. 
The  French  people  thus  lost  by  the  relative  decline  of 
France  a  large  part  of  the  surplus  taken  from  their  leisure 
class.  This  fact  and  not  the  internal  struggle  brought  on 
the  real  Revolution,  which  made  marked  changes  in  the 
map  of  Europe.  The  French,  failing  to  secure  at  home 
that  net  increase  of  income  demanded  by  the  new  stand- 
ard of  comfort,  sought  to  take  by  force  the  increased 
income  that  other  nations,  because  of  their  improved  eco- 
nomic conditions,  were  enjoying.  The  home  struggle 
proved  easy,  but  the  external  struggle  was  a  failure  and 
ended  in  exhausting  the  resources  of  France.  The  day 
had  gone  by  when  France  could  dominate  Europe. 


284  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

The  economic  character  of  the  struggle  is  made  clearer 
by  a  comparison  of  the  economic  conditions  of  England 
and  France.  The  great  industrial  inventions  in  England 
were  beginning  to  show  their  effects  in  the  growth  of 
population  and  in  an  increased  demand  for  food.  Their 
larger  incomes  permitted  her  people  to  bid  successfully 
against  foreign  nations,  and  especially  against  France, 
where  the  increase  of  productive  power  was  relatively 
slow.  The  food  imported  by  England  was  usually  in  the 
form  of  wheat  —  the  one  rare  thing  for  which  there  was  a 
general  demand.  It  thus  happened  that  just  at  the  time 
when  France  wanted  more  wheat  to  raise  her  standard  of 
comfort,  England  outbid  her  and  took  the  coveted  grain. 
To  say  the  least,  England  was  always  first  supplied,  and 
France  got  what  was  left.  In  bad  years  England  took  a 
share  of  the  French  wheat,  leaving  the  French  towns 
without  a  proper  supply;  and  in  good  years,  when  prices 
were  low,  French  country  people  were  in  distress.  So 
in  either  case  there  were  suffering  and  discontent  in 
France. 

When  two  nations  stand  in  such  economic  relations, 
there  is  brought  into  operation  that  portion  of  economic 
theory  called  the  "potato  philosophy."  The  advantage 
of  a  high  standard  of  life  and  of  the  consumption  of  rare 
articles  of  food  consists  in  the  fact  that  a  nation  gets 
the  rare  articles,  or  at  least  as  much  of  them  as  she 
demands.  The  nations  at  a  disadvantage  take  what  is 
left  of  the  better  food,  supplying  the  deficiency  with 
coarser  and  cheaper  articles  of  consumption.  If  the  better 
and  rarer  articles  of  the  first  nation  are  short  in  amount, 
the  superior  income  of  its  people  enables  them  to  outbid 
their  rivals  among  poorer  nations,  taking  from  the  latter 
their  own  food  supply.  The  most  prosperous  nation  is 
thus  enabled  to  supply  its  people  with  the  best  there  is, 
and  all  suffering  must  be  endured  by  its  weaker  rivals. 
These  facts  have  of  tea  been  pointed  out  in  the  relations 


THE  ECONOMISTS  285 

that  exist  between  England  and  Ireland.  The  superior 
incomes  of  the  English  people  enable  them  to  draw  the 
best  food  from  Ireland,  while  if  there  is  a  shortage  in 
either  country  the  Irish  suffer.  The  Irish  have  starved 
even  when  the  island  was  producing  more  than  enough 
good  food  for  all  its  inhabitants.  The  people  of  the 
nation  economically  the  strongest  always  sit  at  Nature's 
first  table,  the  other  nations  taking  their  turn  in  the  order 
of  their  economic  strength  and  getting  what  their  superiors 
leave.  The  French  people,  who  had  long  sat  at  this  first 
table,  were  now  compelled  to  yield  their  places  to  the 
English  and  accept  a  second  place.  They  were  thus  put 
in  the  same  relation  to  the  English  in  which  the  Irish  have 
long  stood,  and  the  French  might  have  suffered  as 
severely  as  Ireland  had  they  not  resisted  the  change  so 
vigorously.  They  could  not  drive  the  English  from 
their  superior  position,  but  they  did  not  take  so  low  a 
place  in  the  world's  market  as  they  would  have  taken, 
if  they  had  followed  the  example  of  Portugal  or  Ireland, 
and  become  feeders  of  the  English. 

The  struggle  in  France  was  thus  forced  on  her  by 
her  changed  economic  condition.  The  cry  for  liberty, 
equality,  and  fraternity  was  prompted  by  the  thought 
that  there  was  bread  and  comfort  for  all,  and  that  every- 
body might  sit  at  Nature's  first  table.  It  was  ineffectual 
because  it  was  not  in  harmony  with  facts.  The  productive 
power  of  Europe  at  that  time  was  not  great  enough  to 
make  all  its  inhabitants  comfortable,  nor  was  its  wheat 
crop  large  enough  to  permit  all  to  live  on  bread.  The 
great  wars  decided  definitely  that  the  English  should  have 
the  bread  and  the  first  table.  The  French  lost,  partly 
because  it  was  too  late  for  them  to  dominate  Europe,  and 
partly  because  they  stood  for  ideas  that  could  not  be 
realized.  The  spread  of  French  ideas  was  limited  to  that 
part  of  western  Europe  in  which  the  people  were  striving 
to  secure  a  bread  diet.    So  much  of  Europe  was  contented 


286  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

merely  to  live  that  a  demand  for  comfort  could  not  make 
an  effective  social  upheaval. 

Although,  through  the  changes  in  English  thought 
associated  with  Adam  Smith  and  Wesley,  the  moral  philos- 
ophers lost  their  commanding  position,  their  influence 
endured,  and  men  of  their  temperament  and  mental  habits 
occupied  prominent  places  during  the  succeeding  epoch. 
At  first  glance  it  is  difficult  to  select  and  classify  them, 
their  factional  quarrels  concealing  their  common  qualities 
and  making  their  peculiarities  appear  more  important  than 
they  really  were.  It  may  seem  misleading  to  put  together 
the  names  of  Paley,  Bentham,  Godwin,  James  Mill,  New- 
man, Carlyle,  Ruskin,  Charles  Kingsley,  Gladstone,  and 
Herbert  Spencer.  Yet  in  a  classification  of  Englishmen, 
made  according  to  their  fundamental  characteristics  and 
psychic  manifestations,  such  men  all  go  into  one  group. 

The  Calvinists  were  the  dominant,  or,  at  least,  the  most 
imposing  element  in  English  life,  until  met  by  the  vigor- 
ous, conscious  opposition  of  those  influenced  by  Utopian 
ideals.  These  two  classes  did  not  oppose  each  other 
as  sects  holding  different  opinions  about  particular  meas- 
ures, but  their  views  of  life  and  its  purpose  were  the  basis 
of  the  disagreement.  We  might  say  that  the  Calvinistic 
attitude  is  characteristic  of  the  feminine  mind,  and  the 
utilitarian  of  the  masculine.  With  the  Calvinists,  woman 
has  had  much  influence ;  with  Utopists,  however,  she  has 
had  little  to  do.  Mothers  have  clung  too  closely  to 
"  home  "  ideals,  and  have  dreaded  too  much  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  outside  world  to  feel  the  force  of  the  ideals 
which  the  Utopists  have  presented.  The  first  thought  of 
the  woman  is  of  her  home  ;  that  of  the  Utopist  is  of  the 
world  and  the  general  good.  The  two  mental  attitudes 
clash  at  almost  every  point,  the  effects  of  the  opposition 
appearing  in  a  thousand  forms.  In  religion  the  Calvinist 
gives  the  first  place  to  the  covenant  between  God  and 


THE   ECONOMISTS  287 

men,  and  puts  himself  in  too  close  touch  with  God  to  care 
much  about  his  relations  to  men  or  the  future  of  society. 
To  the  Calvinist  the  world  is  not  a  place  for  pleasure,  but 
a  place  for  trial  and  tribulation,  while  the  main  question 
of  the  future  is,  which  of  the  "  vials  of  wrath "  God  means 
to  pour  out  next.  A  believer  in  total  depravity  cannot  con- 
sistently believe  in  social  progress.  Such  a  man  has  crude 
ideas  of  civilization  and  culture,  and  no  faith  in  deep  social 
forces  which  reduce  temptation,  gradually  making  men's 
lives  more  happy  and  natural. 

The  ideal  of  social  progress  was  always  upheld  by  some  in 
the  Church,  for  many  of  those  who  emphasized  its  power 
did  so  in  the  belief  that  it  was  the  only  means  by  which 
social  progress  could  be  promoted.  They  had  the  ideal 
of  a  happy,  peaceable  people,  guided  in  the  right  path  by 
a  united  Church.  Although  this  ideal  was  revived  among 
the  Protestants,  naturally  less  emphasis  was  placed  on  the 
part  the  Church  was  to  play  in  its  realization.  The  new 
school  advocated  a  natural  theology,  making  the  peace,  hap- 
piness, and  progress  of  men  the  great  end  of  the  divine 
plan;  and  so  confident  were  they  of  this  doctrine  that  they 
attempted  to  discover  the  will  of  God  by  measuring  the 
happiness  of  men.  These  attempted  determinations  of 
God's  will  by  objective  standards  turned  the  movement 
in  a  new  direction  and  extended  its  influence.  When 
schemes  for  the  measurement  of  happiness  were  once  pro- 
posed, they  were  applied  in  political  and  social  as  well  as 
in  religious  affairs.  A  general  principle  was  thus  acquired 
which,  when  separated  from  its  religious  source,  was  made 
the  criterion  by  which  religion  itself  was  judged. 

While  this  development  towards  utilitarianism  was  going 
on,  there  were  many  who  held  tenaciously  to  the  original 
position  and  tried  to  develop  it  in  harmony  with  church 
ideals,  or  at  least  continued  the  opposition  of  the  older 
moralists  to  material  measurements  of  happiness.  There 
have  thus  arisen  two  distinct  schools  :  the  economic  utili- 


288  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

tarians,  who  accepted  the  practical  philosophy  for  getting 
on  in  the  world,  and  elevated  its  maxims  into  moral  rules  ; 
and  the  philosophic  Utopists,  who  preserved  the  traditions 
and  moral  attitude  of  past  ages.  Differing  as  these  two 
schools  do  in  many  of  their  principles  and  measurements, 
they  yet  have  the  same  general  attitude  and  show  the 
same  traits  and  habits  of  thought.  They  agree  in  mak- 
ing human  happiness  the  end  of  action,  and  differ  only  as 
to  the  means  of  measuring  it  and  of  valuing  its  different 
forms.  Both  put  social  and  general  interests  above  local 
and  personal  interests,  recognizing  the  unity  of  society, 
and  also  in  some  form  the  solidarity  of  responsibility. 
Of  still  more  importance  is  the  fact  that  both  have  an 
ideal  of  a  social  Utopia,  which  they  hope  to  realize,  some 
through  religious  organization,  some  by  political  unity, 
and  some  by  cooperation  ;  yet  in  all  cases  the  distant 
Utopia,  whether  hidden  or  revealed,  is  a  cherished  picture 
and  a  source  of  inspiration  —  a  lovely  theme  to  which  the 
thinker  is  ever  fond  of  returning.  The  perception  of  this 
Utopian  ideal  is  the  cause  of  another  peculiarity  —  a 
marked  aversion  to  the  present,  and  to  the  characteristics 
of  the  dominant  class  in  present  society.  Any  one  who 
dreams  of  a  glorious  future  feels  sorely  the  defects  in 
present  social  arrangements,  and  tries  to  make  some 
person  or  class  responsible  for  them.  He  thus  vibrates 
between  vivid  denunciations  of  what  is  and  splendid 
anticipations  of  what  is  to  come.  And  the  present  seems 
darker  as  the  Utopian  ideal  grows  more  clear.  As  to 
what  is  wrong  in  the  present,  and  what  the  Utopia  shall 
consist  of,  there  is  no  agreement,  and  about  these  matters 
the  bitterest  of  feuds  have  arisen;  but  for  all  that  the 
participation  in  these  future  hopes  and  present  denuncia- 
tions is  the  surest  mark  of  a  Utopist.  There  is  not  much 
difference  at  bottom  between  Cardinal  Newman's  oppo- 
sition to  present  tendencies  and  Herbert  Spencer's,  nor 
did  Newman's  ideal  of  the  future  church  differ  as  much 


THE  ECONOMISTS  289 

as  might  be  supposed  from  Spencer's  state  of  unalloyed 
happiness.  A  few  alterations  would  change  the  denun- 
ciation or  ideal  of  the  one  into  that  of  the  other. 

There  is  another  Utopian  peculiarity  which  is  plainly 
due  to  the  influence  of  Newton,  whose  discoveries  tended 
to  develop  a  school  of  optimists  who  fix  their  eyes  on 
the  distant  future  and  overlook  or  neglect  the  needs, 
suffering,  and  misery  of  intervening  ages.  This  is  be- 
cause the  Newtonian  reasoning  enables  men  to  measure 
and  fix  objects  at  a  great  distance  from  themselves,  both 
in  time  and  in  space,  helping  them  to  picture  great  and 
distant  events  in  a  simple  form,  and  encouraging  them  to 
overlook  details  —  a  form  of  long-range  reasoning  which 
is  especially  attractive  to  Utopists.  They  like  the  bold- 
ness and  dash  of  Newton's  thought,  making  it  a  model  in 
their  own  field.  Economists  used  to  be  charged  with 
cultivating  a  disposition  that  enabled  them  to  sit  at 
"  Nature's  feast,"  and  look  with  indifference  on  those  who 
had  neither  seats  nor  food.  Just  so  can  a  Newtonian 
optimist  brush  aside  the  claims  and  rights  of  the  count- 
less ages  which  intervene  between  the  present  and  the 
realization  of  his  ideal  and  disregard  centuries  as  readily 
as  the  economists  disregarded  individuals. 

The  Utopists  are  also  at  one  in  the  emphasis  they  place 
on  progress  by  influence  as  opposed  to  what  we  now  call 
progress  by  breeding  or  selection  ;  and  they  all  have  the 
boyish  hope  that  every  one  can  be  elevated  and  made  to 
participate  in  the  glorious  future  of  the  race.  But  there 
is  no  agreement  as  to  the  means  by  which  the  desired  end 
can  be  reached  :  some  believe  in  the  potency  of  reasoning, 
some  in  guidance  of  nature,  some  in  religion,  and  others 
in  the  power  of  artistic  ideals.  In  spite  of  the  failures 
which  have  followed  every  attempt  to  realize  this  faith, 
manly  men  have  clung  to  it  with  a  desperate  hope  which 
even  the  new  plan  of  progress  has  not  effaced.  Breeding 
and  selection  grate  on  the  feelings  of  Utopian  idealists, 


290  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

for  it  places  serious  limits  to  their  ideal.  No  one  thing 
is  more  plainly  the  outcome  of  a  moral  attitude  than  a 
belief  in  the  power  of  influence  to  elevate  mankind  —  a 
belief  which  is  the  attitude  of  the  Catholic  Church  and  of 
the  High  Church  movement  generally.  Religion  in  this 
form  influences  to  some  extent  every  one  in  the  com- 
munity. The  religion  of  the  Calvinists  influences  a  part 
of  the  community  powerfully,  and  the  rest  not  at  all,  or 
perhaps  even  detrimentally.  Its  strength  is  due  not  to 
its  general  influence,  but  to  the  breeding  that  elevates  the 
good  and  the  selection  that  destroys  the  bad. 

Besides  these  general  peculiarities  there  are  others  which 
belong  more  especially  to  the  philosophic  and  religious 
Utopists.  They  unite  a  love  of  the  past  and  of  foreign 
ways  with  their  Utopian  dreams  and  see  the  essence  of  the 
future,  or  at  least  a  forecast  of  it  in  some  foreign  elements 
that  they  are  striving  to  introduce  into  their  own  civiliza- 
tion. They  are  foreign  hearted  and  cosmopolitan,  wish- 
ing they  were  born  in  some  other  land,  or  at  least  in  some 
other  age.  Carlyle  strove  to  Germanize  English  litera- 
ture. Newman  wanted  a  foreign  religion ;  the  High 
Church  party  desired  to  reestablish  old  forms  ;  artists 
strove  for  the  foreign  and  antique  ;  and  Herbert  Spencer 
appeals  to  foreign  facts  even  when  home  ones  would  seem 
to  serve  better.  In  evolutionary  reasoning  facts  are  of 
importance  in  proportion  to  their  distance  from  us.  The 
present  is  judged  not  by  its  own  evidence,  but  from  the 
most  distant  standpoint  available. 

These  men  are  also  strongly  disposed  to  accept  antino- 
mies and  to  attempt  to  reconcile  opposites.  The  logical 
severity  of  the  Calvinists  is  absent.  The  manly  man 
relies  on  the  strength  of  his  will,  deceiving  himself  into 
thinking  that  things  which  can  be  held  together  in  thought 
by  sheer  will  power  can  also  be  united  logically.  But 
reasoning  and  willing  are  different  mental  attributes,  and 
the  manly  man  overestimates  the  latter.      He  succeeds 


THE  ECONOMISTS  291 

only  in  casting  over  himself  and  his  followers  a  spell  which 
is  quickly  broken,  and  then  people  wonder  how  they  ever 
came  to  accept  such  reasoning.  Mr.  Spencer  has  given 
some  good  examples  of  created  oppositions  and  attempted 
reconciliations,  which  make  a  prominent  feature  in  all  his 
books.  The  same  tendency  is  seen  in  all  the  philosophic 
Utopists  from  the  via  media,  for  which  Newman  strug- 
gled so  long,  to  Gladstone's  attempt  to  reconcile  national 
unity  and  home  rule. 

This  type  of  Utopists  possesses  other  peculiarities,  due 
to  defeats  incurred  at  the  hands  of  the  popular  party,  and 
to  the  opposition  of  the  economic  utilitarians.  A  losing 
party  always  clings  to  some  desperate  hope  ;  its  weak- 
kneed  and  indifferent  members  yield,  so  that  those  who 
are  left  in  the  struggle  have  a  clearer  vision  and  are 
ready  for  bolder  undertakings.  The  Calvinists  and  Lib- 
erals were  gaining  steadily  in  public  confidence,  and  were 
filling  public  places  with  their  adherents.  Feeling  that 
something  must  be  done  before  all  was  lost,  philosophic 
Utopists  were  ready  to  grasp  at  straws,  and  easily 
convinced  themselves  that  their  ideals  were  embodied 
in  every  reaction  against  popular  tendencies.  Notice  the 
eagerness  with  which  Carlyle  during  the  American  Civil 
War  seized  the  idea  of  uniting  the  West  Indies  and  the 
Southern  States,  and  making  a  centre  from  which  "  heroes  " 
could  work  out  their  plans.  Again,  Newman's  hope  of 
making  an  effective  opposition  to  popular  tendencies 
through  the  unification  of  the  Church  was  equally  vision- 
ary. The  same  illusive  hope  inspired  Herbert  Spencer 
when  he  broke  in  on  the  plan  of  his  philosophy  to  write 
his  Data  of  Ethics.  The  new  ethics  proved  as  slight  a 
barrier  to  the  popular  movement  as  any  of  the  earlier 
schemes.  Like  the  others,  it  merely  showed  the  faith  of 
Utopists  in  remote  ideals  and  their  proneness  to  misinter- 
pret and  underestimate  the  force  of  present  tendencies. 

The  mental  attitude  of  these  men  can  be  best  under- 


292  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

stood  by  comparing  it  with  that  of  the  French  Utopists 
of  the  same  epoch.  The  French  were  constantly  defeated 
in  their  efforts  to  retain  their  earlier  supremacy.  Out  of 
this  fact  grew  the  instability  of  their  government  because 
each  faction  in  turn  tried  with  the  same  ill  success  to  resist 
the  forces  that  were  crushing  France.  Each  new  failure 
inspired  some  new  hope  in  another  direction,  making  a 
party  which  strove  for  its  realization.  The  steady  defeat 
of  national  aspirations  thus  forced  a  series  of  revolutions, 
each  of  a  more  desperate  character  than  its  predecessor. 
In  England  the  government  was  stable  because  it  was 
controlled  by  the  popular  party  ;  but  in  their  thought  the 
defeated  philosophic  Utopists  show  the  same  breaks  in 
continuity  and  the  same  revolutions  that  the  French 
nation  displays  in  the  field  of  politics.  English  thought 
was  in  a  constant  state  of  eruption,  popular  leaders  were 
converted  and  reconverted.  No  one  felt  sure  that  the 
"  hero  "  he  trusted  could  be  relied  on.  There  was  hardly 
a  prominent  man  who  had  not  changed  his  attitude  on 
public  questions  and  disappointed  his  ardent  followers. 
The  explanation  is  that  public  men  were  educated  in  one 
school  of  thought,  while  the  average  man  was  forced  by 
his  economic  condition  into  another.  The  heroes  of  the 
day  struggled,  grasped  at  straws,  and  revolutionized  them- 
selves to  save  the  cause  to  which  they  were  attached  by 
education  and  instinct.  But  all  in  vain,  for  the  popular 
party  gradually  crushed  all  opposition  and  forced  the 
"  heroes  "  to  fall  into  line  or  to  retire. 

The  desperateness  of  the  situation  was  further  increased 
by  the  successes  of  their  natural  allies,  the  economic 
utilitarians.  By  a  queer  combination  of  circumstances 
the  Benthamites  had  amalgamated  with  the  new  school 
of  economists,  subordinating  their  utilitarian  ideals  to  the 
practical  programme  of  the  economists.  This  programme 
with  which  the  name  of  Ricardo  is  associated,  not  only 
was  definite,  but  also  had  an  alluring  logical  ring  ;  its  prop- 


THE  ECONOMISTS  293 

ositions  were  based  on  generally  accepted  facts,  and  its 
reasoning  charmed  every  one  with  logical  instincts.  But 
on  the  other  hand  the  picture  it  presented  of  the  future 
of  society  was  dismal.  Men  must  always  lack  food,  pov- 
erty must  increase  with  progress,  and  social  Utopias  be- 
come impossible.  This  picture  was  as  repellent  as  the 
logic  of  the  arguments  by  which  it  was  supported  was 
attractive.  The  philosophic  Utopists  could  not  accept  the 
picture  ;  and  though  they  could  not  pick  flaws  in  its  logic, 
they  revolted  against  the  leading  features  of  the  economic 
programme.  Their  feelings  are  best  expressed  by  the 
exclamation,  "How  dreadful,  but  how  plausible  !" 

Thus  the  orderly  development  of  the  philosophic  Uto- 
pists was  blocked  by  the  Benthamites.  It  was  not  possi- 
ble for  the  former  party  to  change  popular  tendencies  ;  but 
a  philosophy  might  have  been  created  if  they  had  not  been 
deceived  into  supposing  that  economic  utilitarianism  was 
philosophy  itself.  Many  of  them  thought  of  it  as  a  sort 
of  religion.1 

They  were  thus  shut  out  of  both  the  orderly  paths  of 
development.  If  men  are  in  harmony  with  popular  ten- 
dencies, they  may  by  immersing  themselves  in  practical 
life  become  leaders  in  its  progress.  Even  in  opposition  to 
popular  tendencies,  a  philosophy  can  be  created  which  will 
aid  some  new  generation  to  carry  on  its  struggles  more 
consciously.  In  either  case  safeguards  are  thrown  about 
men  making  them  steady,  conservative,  and  practical. 
But  when  both  these  roads  to  progress  are  closed,  each 
seeming  equally  to  lead  to  destruction  and  social  ruin, 
nothing  remains  but  to  take  to  the  "  woods,"  every  man 
for  himself.     This  is  an  attractive  undertaking  for  manly 

1  "There  is  a  Providence  which  rules  this  earth,  whose  name  is  neither 
Political  Economy  nor  Expediency."  —  Charles  Kingsley. 

This  statement  implies  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  of  the  moralists  that 
the  ways  of  God  are  discovered  by  their  reasonableness,  and  also  that  the 
logic  of  political  economy  is  so  reasonable  as  to  resemble  the  will  of  God. 


294  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

men  with  strong  wills,  but  it  seldom  produces  any  perma- 
nent effect.  The  brilliancy  of  the  efforts  may  astound, 
but  social  progress  is  too  complex  to  be  promoted  by  aim- 
less dashes,  no  matter  how  great  the  vigour  or  how  lofty 
the  motive.  Such  individual  efforts  make  good  reading, 
but  not  history. 

To  the  economic  utilitarians,  however,  in  spite  of  the 
snares  and  pitfalls  into  which  they  fell,  a  more  important 
place  must  be  assigned.  If  they  failed  to  establish  utilita- 
rianism, they  at  least  improved  its  logic,  and  made  its 
measurements  definite.  These  results  were  the  outcome 
of  their  use  of  the  popular  bread  philosophy  as  a  basis  for 
their  reasoning.  When  bread  is  regarded  as  the  staff  of 
life,  and  every  one  is  assumed  to  live  on  bread  alone,  it 
becomes  easy  to  measure  happiness  by  the  quantity  of 
bread  each  one  consumes.  Bentham  utilizes  this  reason- 
ing to  make  the  measurement  of  happiness  definite.  "  To 
every  particle  of  the  matter  of  wealth,"  he  tells  us,  "  corre- 
sponds a  particle  of  the  matter  of  happiness."  No  one 
would  accept  this  reasoning,  if  he  were  not  thinking  of 
bread  as  a  concrete  expression  of  wealth,  and  of  bread 
eating  as  the  sum  of  happiness.  Take  away  the  definite- 
ness  of  the  bread  philosophy,  and  the  proposition  would 
be  meaningless.  Who,  for  example,  could  deceive  himself 
into  thinking  that  each  particle  of  cloth,  beef,  or  wine 
produced  the  same  quantity  of  happiness.  The  difference 
in  the  qualities  of  these  articles  is  too  great,  and  the  quan- 
tities of  them  that  different  individuals  consume,  are  too 
varied  to  permit  of  such  a  deception.  Wheat  bread,  how- 
ever, is  qualitatively  the  same,  and  there  is  little  quanti- 
tative difference  in  the  amount  that  men  can  consume. 
It  is  easy,  therefore,  to  think  that  each  particle  of  bread 
contains  a  "particle  of  happiness,"  and  that  the  sum  of 
happiness  is  the  same  as  the  amount  of  wheat.  To  this 
the  economists  added  the  doctrine  of  the  wage  fund, 
which  asserts  that  the  quantity  of  wealth  a  nation  pro- 


THE  ECONOMISTS  295 

duces  is  limited  by  the  quantity  of  food  that  has  been 
produced  and  stored  up.  As  it  was  assumed  that  this 
food  is  wheat,  the  wheat  crop  becomes  the  measure  both 
of  wealth  and  happiness.  All  other  standards  can  be  dis- 
pensed with  ;  one  material  measurement  suffices  for  every 
situation. 

It  would  not  have  been  possible  to  unify  the  pro- 
gramme of  the  economists  with  that  of  Bentham  if  his 
social  standard  had  not  been  so  low.  He  seems  to  have 
thought  much  of  living,  and  nothing  of  comfort,  and  at 
a  time  when  all  England  was  striving  for  the  pleasures  of 
home  life  he  was  thinking  only  of  security,  which  he 
made  the  first  principle  of  law,  above  that  of  equal- 
ity. He  asserted  that  the  advantage  of  abundance  was 
not  that  it  made  comfort  possible,  but  that  it  secured 
individuals  against  periods  of  scarcity.  The  prudence  he 
recommended  was  that  of  Joseph,  who  stored  up  food  in  the 
years  of  plenty  against  the  years  of  want.  There  was,  how- 
ever, no  thought  of  social  progress.  If  a  nation,  he  says, 
of  five  thousand  people  has  food  for  ten  thousand,  it  should 
not  increase  its  numbers,  —  a  piece  of  practical  advice,  on 
the  strength  of  which  the  reader  expects  him  to  say  that 
this  abundance  can  be  used  to  make  the  people  happier  and 
more  comfortable.  But  of  this  he  is  not  thinking.  The 
extra  food  should  be  stored  away  so  as  to  make  its  owners 
secure  in  time  of  want.  Practically  his  reasoning  comes  to 
this,  that  men  do  not  differ  in  happiness  except  as  they 
differ  in  the  security  they  have  for  their  future.  Their 
stomachs  are  of  the  same  size  :  if  full,  they  live  ;  if  empty, 
they  die.  It  is  this  emphasis  of  security  that  causes  him 
to  overlook  the  intensity  of  pleasures.  Pushpin  is  as 
good  as  poetry  if  it  costs  as  much.  Particles  of  wealth  all 
have  particles  of  happiness  attached  to  them,  and  if  they 
are  sold  in  time  of  want,  they  will  buy  equal  quantities  of 
bread  and  embody  equal  quantities  of  security.  Wealth 
is  either  bread  or  the  power  to  buy  bread.     If  pushpin  is 


296  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

as  good  as  poetry,  codfish  balls  are  as  good  as  beefsteak, 
and  a  soup  dinner  is  as  good  as  chicken  pie. 

It  is  needless  to  expand  such  a  philosophy  or  to  explain 
why  it  was  repugnant  to  men  of  culture.  Bentham's  idea 
of  pleasure  was  negative ;  yet  he  was  so  clear  and  steady 
in  his  reasoning  that  he  convinced  men  intellectually, 
although  their  hearts  revolted  against  the  programme 
he  outlined.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  philosophic  Uto- 
pists  rejected  a  programme  in  which  there  was  no  place 
for  their  ideals ;  but  in  doing  so  they  were  forced  then 
to  oppose  philosophy  and  to  lose  the  restraint  that  it  puts 
upon  men.  Opposing  as  they  did  both  the  reasoning  of 
the  economists,  and  the  plain  common-sense  attitude  of 
the  popular  party,  nothing  was  left  for  them  but  wild 
schemes  and  visionary  plans.  It  takes  more  than  brill- 
iancy to  put  such  schemes  into  working  order ;  and  each 
attempt  was  followed  by  failure,  and  then  by  fresh  at- 
tempts of  an  equally  futile  character. 

In  the  meantime  the  popular  party  went  its  way  prac- 
tically without  leadership,  yet  crushing  all  opposition  by 
the  weight  of  its  numbers.  Whether  as  Calvinists, 
Methodists,  liberals,  or  capitalists,  they  all  stood  for  home 
ideals,  and  cared  little  for  the  culture  of  their  opponents. 
If  they  lacked  the  necessary  elements  of  a  higher  civiliza- 
tion, it  should  be  remembered  that  they  were  shut  out  of 
the  universities  ;  and  if  they  lacked  leaders,  it  was  because 
the  leaders  of  popular  movements  had  been  persecuted 
out  of  existence.  For  all  this  England  paid  heavily  in 
the  first  half  of  the  present  century  when  popular  move- 
ments could  no  longer  be  suppressed.  A  few  concrete 
demands  had  forced  their  way  into  the  popular  conscious- 
ness, and  to  these  demands  men  clung  tenaciously,  in  spite 
of  the  higher  ideals  for  which  the  "  heroes  "  were  striving. 

In  one  respect  the  Utopian  ideal  was  not  a  failure.  It 
brought  on  a  conflict  with  the  economists,  the  influence  of 


THE  ECONOMISTS  297 

which  on  the  development  of  thought  has  made  this  epoch 
particularly  notable.  Certain  writers  unable  to  see  the 
difference  between  a  social  Utopia  and  the  practical  poli- 
tics of  the  day  began  to  apply  the  abstract  principles  of 
a  Utopia  to  the  solution  of  the  concrete  problems  of  the 
day.  Building  of  Utopias  is  an  innocent  amusement,  so 
long  as  the  Utopias  are  not  confused  with  actual  govern- 
ments ;  but  when  the  builders  insist  on  contrasting  the 
evils  from  which  men  actually  suffer  with  the  pleasures 
connected  with  the  ideal  society,  a  conflict  between  the 
advocates  of  Utopias  and  the  defenders  of  the  existing 
social  order  becomes  inevitable.  The  only  question  is 
where  and  when  the  conflict  will  break  out. 

To  understand  the  position  of  the  two  parties,  we  must 
return  to  the  controversy  started  by  Mandeville.  He  had 
held  that  man  was  nothing  but  skin,  flesh,  and  bones, 
through  which  the  internal  passions  manifested  them- 
selves. Wealth  was  the  means  of  gratifying  these  pas- 
sions, and  hence  to  the  production  of  wealth  the  energies 
of  men  were  directed.  To  create  work  this  wealth  must 
be  consumed,  and  hence  vicious  indulgences  that  wasted 
wealth  were  necessary  to  public  welfare.  Hume  made 
this  philosophy  more  definite  by  asserting  that  the  pas- 
sions created  the  only  motives  that  influenced  the  will. 
The  moral  philosophers,  however,  had  turned  the  edge 
of  Mandeville's  argument  by  changing  the  definition  of 
vice,  and  by  showing  the  good  effects  created  by  the 
motive  of  self-interest.  Hume's  argument  was  with- 
drawn, or  at  least  so  modified  as  to  lose  its  importance 
before  a  conflict  was  aroused  over  it.  The  real  issue  was 
thus  not  fought  out,  but  was  left  in  abeyance  until  it 
should  appear  in  some  new  form.  The  moralists,  soon 
losing  sight  of  the  assertion  that  men  were  passionate, 
went  on  talking  about  the  reasonableness  of  man's  con- 
duct as  though  this  first  premise  had  been  proved.  They 
soon  became  thoroughly  optimistic,  and  talked  as  if  the 


298  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

millennium  had  really  arrived.  This  pleasant  vision  had 
to  be  destroyed  and  Malthus  was  the  accidental  cause  of 
its  destruction.  I  say  accidental,  because  he  was  more  a 
moralist  than  an  economist.  He  tried  to  avoid  trouble 
by  admitting  moral  considerations,  and  thus  obscured  the 
real  issue.  At  bottom  there  is  only  one  issue,  although 
it  may  be  framed  in  many  forms.  The  reader  should 
bear  in  mind  that  I  am  not  trying  to  prove  or  disprove 
the  law  of  population,  but  only  to  show  the  part  it  played 
in  the  development  of  English  thought. 

To  do  this  we  must  look  at  social  problems  from  the 
standpoint  of  men  living  at  the  beginning  of  this  century. 
We  must  understand  the  optimistic  and  Utopian  attitude 
of  the  one  party,  and  the  determined  adherence  to  actual 
conditions  of  the  other.  The  differences  are  not  merely 
those  of  fact  and  logic,  but  of  character  and  mental  traits 
as  well.  A  struggle  between  types  of  men  was  thus 
brought  on,  which  continued  during  the  whole  period. 
The  clearest  issue  was  whether  men  are  controlled  by  rea- 
son or  by  passion.  The  old  definition  of  reasoning  was 
adhered  to,  although  the  type  of  reasoning  had  become 
more  economic  and  inductive ;  and  passion  still  meant 
those  uncontrollable  outbursts  of  primitive  men  which 
lead  to  great  indulgences  and  vicious  acts. 

The  passion  to  which  Malthus  refers  was  not  of  this 
kind.  In  his  mind  passion  may  dominate  men  who  are 
never  dissipated  or  irregular  in  their  habits,  and  women 
who  lead  the  purest  of  lives.  The  moralist  could  reply  to 
Mandeville  that  the  passions  to  which  he  refers  are  man- 
made  and  due  to  depravity  —  departures  from  God's  plan 
for  which  He  is  not  responsible.  But  the  sexual  instinct 
upon  which  Malthus  bases  his  argument  is  a  necessity, 
and  any  resulting  evil  is  due  to  defects  in  God's  plan  for 
which  He  alone  is  responsible.  In  this  new  alignment  of 
the  forces  the  very  basis  of  natural  religion  was  assailed. 
What  Christian  doctrine  could  stand  if  God  is  the  cause 


THE   ECONOMISTS  299 

of  misery  and  vice  ?  It  was  also  asserted  that  limitation 
of  the  food  supply  prevented  the  support  of  the  natural 
increase  of  population.  Not  only  was  man  made  wrong, 
but  nature  itself  was  badly  constructed.  If  population 
increased  geometrically,  while  food  increased  arithmeti- 
cally, what  before  seemed  to  be  the  best  of  worlds  was 
proved  to  be  the  worst. 

The  new  doctrine  was  also  repugnant  to  the  moral 
feelings.  As  population  cannot  increase  faster  than  the 
growth  of  the  food  supply,  the  extra  population  must  be 
cut  off  in  some  way ;  the  only  choice  is  between  war, 
famine,  and  social  disorder  on  the  one  hand,  and  disease, 
crime,  and  vice  on  the  other.  Peace,  security,  and  other 
blessings  of  civilization  are  no  aids.  If  these  improve- 
ments cut  down  the  death-rate,  it  is  raised  again  by  the 
increase  of  disease  and  vice.  Progress  at  bottom  only 
means  an  increase  of  poverty.  The  more  people  there 
are,  the  less  is  their  comfort,  and  the  poorer  is  their  food. 
It  should  be  remembered  that  Malthus  did  not  seek  to 
prove  that  ignorant,  vicious  men  must  necessarily  suffer 
from  a  lack  of  food,  or  that  they  increased  too  rapidly  for 
public  good.  These  propositions  would  have  aroused  no 
opposition.  The  natural  theologians  would  have  been 
glad  to  acquire  an  argument  so  much  in  harmony  with 
their  thought  that  God's  plan  provides  for  the  progress  of 
society  and  for  the  supremacy  of  the  good.  The  Utopists, 
against  whom  Malthus  was  directing  his  arguments,  de- 
rived their  concept  of  the  future  of  society  mainly  from 
the  natural  theologians.  They  made  men  reasonable,  in- 
telligent, virtuous,  and  industrious.  The  members  of  the 
new  commonwealth  were  to  combine  all  the  religious, 
political,  moral,  and  economic  virtues.  If  such  a  com- 
munity breaks  down,  or  is  reduced  to  poverty,  then 
virtue  has  no  reward.  Thus  is  presented  a  plain  issue 
which  once  seen  must  bring  the  economists  and  the  mor- 
alists into  conflict.      Malthus  tried  to  avoid  the  conse- 


300  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

quences  of  his  reasoning  by  adding  moral  restraint  to  his 
list  of>  checks  to  population,  but  the  more  consistent  and 
resolute  of  the  economists  kept  the  original  issue  in  the 
foreground ;  and  even  if  they  had  not  done  so,  the  natu- 
ral theologians  would  have  been  compelled  to  answer  the 
obvious  objections  which  could  now  be  made  to  their  sys- 
tem of  thought.  The  new  doctrine  had  to  be  disproved 
or  shown  to  be  consistent  with  the  divine  plan  for  social 
progress. 

The  economists  not  only  held  to  the  original  position 
of  Malthus,  but  also  strengthened  it.  His  first  argument 
was  based  on  the  necessity  of  food  and  the  limited  area 
of  the  land  upon  which  it  could  be  grown.  Stated  in 
this  way  the  doctrine  asserts  an  ultimate  opposition  be- 
tween the  possible  food  supply  and  the  possible  inhabi- 
tants of  the  world.  There  are,  however,  as  the  moralists 
pointed  out,  no  necessary  present  evils,  and  the  future 
evils  may  be  too  far  off  to  be  worthy  of  notice.  Surely 
there  could  be  no  immediate  danger  when  so  much  of 
the  best  land  of  the  earth  was  unoccupied.  But  the 
position  of  the  economists  was  strengthened  by  the  gen- 
eral acceptance  of  the  doctrine  that  wheat  is  the  only 
proper  food  for  civilized  men.  While  food  might  in- 
crease indefinitely,  the  increase  of  wheat  was  slow  and 
difficult.  The  price  of  wheat  at  the  time  of  the  Mal- 
thusian  controversy  was  abnormally  high,  and  economists, 
in  the  idea  that  these  conditions  were  permanent,  could 
easily  sneer  at  the  claims  of  moralists  that  the  food  sup- 
ply was  indefinitely  great.  If  food  was  abundant,  why 
was  its  price  so  high,  and  why  were  so  many  people  on 
the  verge  of  starvation  ? 

The  economists  also  improved  their  position  by  show- 
ing the  need  of  capital  to  produce  food,  and  especially 
to  produce  the  much-desired  wheat.  The  supply  of  food 
might  potentially  be  unlimited,  and  yet  the  actual  supply 
could  not  be  enlarged  except  as  the  quantity  of  capital 


THE  ECONOMISTS  301 

applied  to  its  production  was  increased.  The  growth  of 
population  is  checked,  not  by  the  potential  supply  of  food, 
but  by  the  actual  increase  of  capital.  There  is  always 
a  lack  of  capital,  due  to  the  fact  that  so  few  persons  are 
able  and  willing  to  save.  As  the  number  of  workers  ex- 
ceeds the  amount  of  work  to  be  done,  there  is  always  a 
struggle  for  work  —  the  only  means  by  which  food  can 
be  obtained. 

The  argument  of  the  economists  was  not  complete  until 
the  law  of  diminishing  returns  was  established.  This 
law  assumes  that  the  application  of  increased  quantities 
of  capital  and  labour  to  land  will  not  yield  proportional 
returns.  If  ten  men  in  a  fertile  field  produce  two  hun- 
dred bushels  of  wheat,  twenty  men  will  not  be  able  to 
produce  four  hundred  bushels,  and  the  return  for  forty 
men's  labour  will  fall  far  short  of  eight  hundred  bushels. 
Assuming,  therefore,  that  the  best  land  yields  twenty 
bushels  of  wheat  to  the  acre,  an  increase  of  population 
will  force  farmers  either  to  cultivate  poorer  land,  or  to 
put  additional  men  on  the  land  already  in  use.  In  either 
case  the  return  per  man  will  be  less,  and  the  incomes  of 
typical  families  will  be  reduced.  Should  population  con- 
tinue to  increase,  every  one  would  finally  be  reduced  to 
want.  Intelligence,  integrity,  energy,  forethought,  and 
other  moral  qualities  are  not  safeguards  against  the  evils 
of  overpopulation  ;  they  may  delay  but  they  cannot 
prevent  the  inevitable  poverty  and  misery  which  face  all 
increasing  societies.  The  virtues  of  men  cannot  remedy 
the  defects  of  the  material  conditions  under  which  they 
are  created. 

It  matters  little  whether  or  not  these  arguments  were 
sound.  They  were  generally  accepted,  and  even  those 
who  rejected  them  were  compelled  to  face  the  issue  raised 
by  Malthus.  Every  one  saw  that  progress  does  not  re- 
move poverty  and  misery,  and  was  forced  to  modify  his 
concept  of  human  nature  so  as  to  explain  the  newly  per- 


302  DEVELOPMENT  OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

ceived  facts.  It  was  not  difficult  for  reformers  on  the 
Continent  to  prove  to  their  satisfaction  that  the  govern- 
ment was  the  cause  of  poverty ;  but  these  arguments  had 
not  much  force  in  England,  where,  men  being  free  and 
the  government  inactive,  the  strength  of  human  passions 
could  be  more  accurately  tested.  While  there  might 
still  be  great  differences  of  opinion  as  to  why  men  act 
badly,  there  was  a  general  conviction  that  the  passions  are 
the  real  causes  of  the  existing  social  distress.  If  men  were 
not  purely  intellectual  beings,  some  modifications  in  their 
nature  must  be  made  before  the  golden  age  of  perfect- 
equality  could  be  reached.  Thinkers  were  ready  for  some 
theory  of  evolution  when  it  was  discovered  that  progress 
intensifies  the  poverty  of  the  inefficient,  making  them  an 
increasing  burden  to  their  superiors.  At  length  it  was 
asserted  that  equality  and  progress  are  opposed  to  one  an- 
other, and  that  a  nation  must  choose  between  them.  If 
the  masses  of  men,  it  is  said,1  were  to  perceive  their  true 
interest,  they  would  stop  the  progress  of  society  to  attain 
equality.  A  strict  application  of  moral  rules  in  favour 
of  the  lower  classes  would  certainly  prevent  progress 
by  checking  the  removal  of  the  less  efficient  portion  of 
society. 

Fortunately  no  such  application  of  moral  rules  could 
be  made.  Progress  is  a  higher  law  than  equality,  and 
a  nation  must  choose  it  at  any  cost.  A  lack  of  progress 
would  eradicate  the  efficient  and  prudent  as  certainly 
as  the  presence  of  progress  crushes  the  inefficient  and 
thoughtless.  Progress  was  thus  compelled  to  follow  the 
lines  laid  down  by  Adam  Smith  and  Wesley  and  to 
favour  non-moral  social  standards  upheld  on  the  one 
hand  by  concrete  economic  rules  harmonizing  with  the 
immediate  environment,  and  on  the  other  hand  by  in- 
tensive feelings  that  made  men   discontented  with   any- 

1  See  Kidd's  Social  Evolution,  Chap.  IH. 


THE   ECONOMISTS  303 

thing  short  of  perfection.  Malthusianism  was  another 
blow  at  the  old  objective  morality  based  on  the  assump- 
tion that  men  were  to  be  moved  only  by  premises  and 
rules.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  the  doctrine 
excited  an  intense  opposition,  which  continued  until  it 
was  clearly  shown  that  the  eradication  of  the  vicious 
and  inefficient  is  a  better  check  on  immoral  practices 
than  all  the  formulated  rules  of  conduct  that  can  be 
devised. 

The  advance  in  economic  thought  made  by  Malthus 
is  a  legitimate  continuation  of  the  work  of  Adam  Smith. 
The  pessimistic  tone  of  the  new  doctrines  might  not 
have  pleased  the  founder  of  the  science,  but  he  would 
have  recognized  at  least  a  similarity  in  the  attitude, 
methods,  and  reasoning  of  his  disciple.  It  is  usually 
assumed  that  Ricardo  was  also  a  follower  of  Adam 
Smith.  He  did  not,  however,  regard  himself  as  a  dis- 
ciple, and  the  harmonizing  of  the  two  systems  of  thought 
was  not  his  work,  but  that  of  his  successors.  Had  Smith 
lived  to  see  the  Ricardian  transformation  of  political 
economy,  he  would  have  sympathized  not  with  the 
Ricardians,  but  with  their  unorthodox  opponents. 

Ricardo,  it  should  be  remembered,  was  a  Jew,  a  con- 
verted Jew,  it  is  true,  yet  even  his  conversion  did  not 
make  him  a  believer  in  that  natural  religion  which  was 
a  second  nature  to  all  Englishmen.  The  striking  thing 
about  Ricardo's  reasoning  is  the  absence  of  colouring 
due  to  the  presuppositions  of  natural  religion.  He  saw 
merely  the  economic  world  into  which  England  had 
entered,  and  his  unswerving  logic  is  not  so  much  a 
positive  acquisition  due  to  a  superior  mind  as  it  is  a 
negative  result  of  not  appreciating  that  picture  of  the 
universe  to  which  Englishmen  clung  so  ardently.  His 
system  is  simple,  and  the  motives  he  recognizes  are 
few,  because  he  has  no  thought  of  England's  past,  or  of 


304  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

the  intellectual  atmosphere  its  civilization  had  created. 
Though  very  different  in  temperament  and  education, 
he  more  nearly  resembles  Mandeville  than  any  other 
thinker  of  his  time.  The  simplicity  and  the  clearness 
of  these  two  writers  were  due  to  the  fact  that,  being 
foreigners,  they  saw  only  the  objective  England.  Ri- 
cardo  was  not  a  cold  logician  of  the  Calvin  type.  He 
was  one  of  the  best  of  observers,  and  his  strength  lay 
more  in  his  rejection  of  what  he  did  not  see  than  in  any 
superiority  of  his  reasoning.  He  was  an  observer  by 
instinct  and  a  reasoner  by  accident. 

The  real  successor  of  Adam  Smith  was  Malthus,  and 
if  it  were  desirable  to  follow  the  line  of  succession 
further,  the  American  economists  would  have  the  prece- 
dence. Diffuse  and  illogical  as  Carey  often  was,  his  sys- 
tem would  have  pleased  Smith  far  better  than  that 
of  Ricardo.  Some  of  Carey's  generalizations  would 
certainly  have  delighted  the  heart  of  Smith,  as  they 
are  the  legitimate  outcome  of  his  own  way  of  viewing 
social  progress.  If  Smith  could  have  read  a  library  of 
the  works  of  his  followers,  in  my  opinion  he  would  have 
been  best  pleased  with  Professor  Clark's  Philosophy  of 
Wealth.  No  recent  book  has  so  revived  the  spirit  of 
the  master,  or  kept  so  free  from  the  local  influences  that 
have  made  Ricardianism  offensive  to  men  with  social 
aspirations  and  ideals. 

I  say  these  things,  not  to  lower  the  position  of  Ricardo, 
but  to  make  it  intelligible.  He  has  unquestionably  the 
important  place  in  the  development  of  the  science  that  his 
admirers  claim  for  him,  but  this  importance  is  justified  on 
other  grounds  than  those  they  emphasize.  The  separation 
of  economic  thought  from  natural  religion  was  inevita- 
ble, and  so  was  a  conflict  between  the  two  ;  yet  the 
opposition  was  not  in  logic,  but  in  matters  of  fact.  A 
good  observer  and  a  consistent  thinker  was  needed  to 
turn  men's  attention  from  old  schemes  of  social  progress 


THE  ECONOMISTS  305 

to  schemes  more  in  harmony  with  the  new  conditions 
upon  which  progress  depended. 

The  influence  of  Ricardo  is  due  to  the  fact  that  he 
presented  a  new  concept  of  society.  Adam  Smith  and 
Malthus  viewed  society  primarily  as  an  agricultural  com- 
munity, assuming  that  the  mass  of  the  people  lived  in  the 
country  and  obtained  their  support  by  cultivating  the 
soil.  For  such  a  society  land  problems  have  a  supreme 
place.  The  rent  of  land  is  the  only  recognized  form  of 
social  surplus,  and  its  increase  is  looked  upon  as  the  index 
of  national  progress.  Some  capital  is  in  use,  but  the 
amount  is  so  small  that  its  importance  is  not  recognized. 
The  loaning  of  money  is  regarded  as  an  evil  mainly  be- 
cause the  borrower  so  often  uses  what  he  gets  not  to 
improve  his  productive  power,  but  to  buy  luxuries  and  to 
indulge  in  dissipation.  The  sources  of  income  in  an 
agricultural  society  are  mainly  rent  and  wages,  of  which 
rent  is  thought  the  more  important  because  it  represents 
the  surplus  of  society.  If  the  landlords  are  prosperous, 
this  surplus  is  diffused  through  society  and  every  one 
partakes  of  its  benefits. 

The  industrial  development  of  the  eighteenth  century 
created  a  new  way  of  estimating  national  progress.  The 
growth  of  cities  attracted  attention,  and  every  effort  was 
made  to  heighten  their  prosperity.  The  one  thing  needed 
to  do  this  was  the  increase  of  capital.  Buildings,  ma- 
chinery, raw  material,  finished  goods  and  other  products 
of  labour  were  thought  of,  not  as  distinct  objects,  but  as 
forms  of  capital.  Viewed  in  this  way  the  two  factors  in 
production  are  labour  and  capital,  and  the  two  forms  of 
income  are  profits  and  wages.  The  dependence  of  pro- 
duction on  nature  is  lost  sight  of ;  the  importance  of 
saving  and  the  security  of  the  saver  are  put  in  the  fore- 
ground. Capital  in  the  new  economy  takes  the  place  that 
land  had  held  in  the  old  agricultural  society,  and  the 
social  surplus  is  changed  from  rent  to  profits.     Prosperity 


306  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

now  has  a  new  measure.  It  is  determined  by  the  condi- 
tion of  the  capitalists  instead  of,  as  before,  by  the  condition 
of  the  landlords.  In  an  agricultural  society  wages  are 
contrasted  with  rent  ;  in  the  new  society  wages  are  con- 
trasted with  profits.  Business  men  make  the  rate  of 
profits  the  criterion  of  prosperity  in  the  same  way  that 
agriculturists  make  the  increase  of  rent  the  test  of 
prosperity. 

Both  these  standpoints  are  defective  and  overlook 
essential  facts,  yet  they  are  the  natural  outcome  of  the 
social  conditions  from  which  they  arise.  Ricardo  was  so 
immersed  in  the  new  industrial  world  that  he  was  not 
conscious  of  the  agricultural  world  demanding  attention. 
I  say  this  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  his  name  is  associated 
with  the  theory  of  rent,  and  that  we  think  of  him  first  of 
all  in  connection  with  land  problems.  This  later  develop- 
ment is,  however,  easy  to  explain  if  we  obtain  the  right 
clew  to  his  starting-point.  The  central  fact  of  his  system 
is  the  connection  between  the  price  of  food  and  the  rate 
of  profits.  Upon  this  connection  all  his  reasoning  turns  ; 
it  is  never  lost  sight  of  even  in  his  most  advanced  theories. 
The  cause  of  low  profits  was  the  first  economic  problem 
to  attract  Ricardo's  attention,  and  here  he  departed  from 
the  explanation  that  Adam  Smith  had  offered.  Smith 
thought  the  fall  of  profits  was  due  to  the  increase  of  com- 
petition. Producers  strove  to  undersell  each  other,  and 
as  they  increased  in  number,  they  reduced  prices  to  hold 
their  markets.  Ricardo  saw  that  a  general  fall  in  values 
was  impossible.  If  every  one  sold  his  goods  twenty  per 
cent  cheaper,  his  real  gains  would  be  as  great  as  before,  if 
he  also  bought  everything  for  twenty  per  cent  less  than 
formerly.  No  one  would  be  driven  out  by  this  change, 
which  merely  indicated  a  fall  in  the  value  of  money. 

If  a  fall  of  prices  checked  competition,  it  must  be  that 
the  values  of  some  articles  did  not  fall  with  the  general 
decline    of  values.     The  perception  of  this   fact  caused 


THE  ECONOMISTS  307 

Ricardo  to  divide  commodities  into  two  classes  :  those 
that  are  freely  produced,  and  those  that  have  some  limita- 
tion to  their  supply  so  that  increased  quantities  can  be 
produced  only  at  increased  cost.  Of  the  latter  class,  food 
is  the  main  article.  If  it  rose  in  price  as  the  prices  of 
freely  produced  commodities  fell,  then  it  was  easy  to 
account  for  the  fall  in  profits  of  which  producers  com- 
plained. At  this  time  the  French  wars  caused  a  high 
price  of  food,  which  a  tax  on  the  importation  of  wheat 
still  further  increased.  Here,  then,  was  a  ready  explana- 
tion of  the  evil  from  which  industry  suffered,  and  the 
remedy  was  equally  plain.  The  tax  should  be  taken  off, 
and  the  markets  of  England  should  be  made  free.  Ricardo 
followed  out  the  logic  of  his  position  and  became  a  free 
trader.  National  prosperity  depended,  he  thought,  on 
industrial  prosperity,  and  this  in  turn  depended  on  the 
rate  of  profits.  Cheap  food  was  necessary  for  a  high  rate 
of  profits,  and  hence  a  tariff  on  food  was  a  hindrance  to 
national  prosperity.  By  this  reasoning  the  interests  of 
the  industrial  classes  were  put  in  opposition  to  those  of 
the  agricultural  classes.  The  prosperity  of  the  latter 
depended  on  the  high  price  of  wheat,  and  they  would 
be  ruined  or  at  least  injured  if  the  tariff  on  food  was 
removed. 

The  issue  was  now  clear.  Was  it  better  for  society 
that  the  surplus  of  society  should  take  the  form  of  rent 
or  of  profits  ?  A  high  price  of  wheat  made  the  landlords 
wealthy ;  a  low  price  was  equally  advantageous  to  the 
capitalists  engaged  in  industry.  This  new  issue  engaged 
the  attention  of  Malthus  and  Ricardo,  and  in  the  subse- 
quent controversy  the  science  of  political  economy  was 
further  enriched  by  the  discovery  of  the  law  of  rent. 
Malthus,  viewing  national  prosperity  from  an  agricultural 
point  of  view,  wished  to  justify  the  corn  laws.  He  con- 
tended that  rent  was  a  creation  of  new  wealth,  and  hence 
was  a  gain  to  the  owners  of  land  without  being  a  loss  to 


308  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

other  classes.  The  increase  of  population  demanded  the 
production  of  more  food,  and  more  food  could  not  be 
obtained  without  cultivating  poorer  land.  The  rise  in 
the  price  of  food  of  which  Ricardo  complained  was  a 
natural  consequence  of  the  increase  of  national  prosperity. 
The  price  of  food  could  not  be  lowered  except  by  causes 
that  at  the  same  time  would  reduce  population  and  check 
prosperity.  Rent  was  therefore  not  a  burden,  but  a  bless- 
ing, a  spontaneous  gift  of  nature  due  to  the  high  produc- 
tivity of  the  best  land.  No  one  was  injured  by  it,  and 
every  one  indirectly  gained  by  the  prosperity  of  the  land- 
lords. 

This  reasoning  did  not  satisfy  Ricardo.  He  would  not 
admit  that  rent  was  a  creation  of  wealth  ;  it  was  merely  a 
transfer  of  wealth  from  the  industrial  classes  to  the  land- 
lords. The  losers  were  the  employers  of  labour  who  must 
now  pay  a  higher  price  for  the  food  of  their  labourers 
without  receiving  any  compensation.  This  high  price  of 
food  put  forces  into  operation  which  transferred  the  sur- 
plus from  the  capitalists  to  the  landlords.  The  employers 
were  impoverished  by  the  exact  amount  that  the  landlords 
were  enriched. 

Ricardo  thus  maintained  his  original  position,  and  even 
strengthened  it  by  new  and  better  proofs.  The  law  of 
rent  made  the  proof  of  his  theory  of  the  relation  of  the 
price  of  food  to  profits  more  complete.  He  now  saw  that 
the  high  price  of  food  was  a  natural  consequence  of  indus- 
trial progress,  and  that  his  theory  of  profits  was  not 
merely  a  rule  of  thumb  applying  to  English  conditions, 
but  a  general  law  of  nature.  Originally  he  had  sought 
to  prove  that  the  corn  laws  were  bad,  in  the  belief  that 
their  abolition  would  restore  the  rate  of  profits  to  its 
former  high  level.  This  hope  he  now  gave  up,  but  he 
had  the  satisfaction  of  proving  deductively  the  well-known 
historical  fact  that  the  rate  of  profits  falls  as  nations  grow 
in  wealth.     His  main  thesis  was  not  changed  by  the  dis- 


THE  ECONOMISTS  309 

covery  of  the  law  of  rent.  It  gave  him  merely  a  better 
proof  of  a  theory  already  developed  from  the  concrete 
conditions  of  the  England  of  his  day. 

This  proof  was  still  further  generalized  by  the  discovery 
of  the  law  of  diminishing  returns.  The  law  of  rent  had 
shown  that  the  rate  of  profits  must  fall  when  the  increase 
of  population  forced  poorer  land  into  cultivation.  The 
new  law  revealed  the  fact  that  any  application  of  addi- 
tional capital  to  land  yielded  a  diminishing  return. 
Increased  prosperity  tended  to  lower  the  rate  of  profits, 
and  thus  to  stop  the  growth  of  capital.  So  prosperity 
worked  to  check  itself,  and  any  nation,  no  matter  how 
energetic  and  prudent,  must  eventually  come  to  a  station- 
ary state  long  before  the  essentials  of  a  high  civilization 
were  worked  out.  Malthus  showed  that  a  perfect  society 
would  break  down  because  of  the  pressure  of  population. 
The  law  of  diminishing  returns  proved  that  no  such 
society  could  be  established.  The  motives  that  make  men 
prudent  and  enterprising  are  gradually  weakened  by  the 
fall  of  profits  until  at  last  they  lose  their  force  entirely;  and 
society  is  thus  left  without  any  basis  for  further  progress. 

After  the  discovery  of  the  law  of  diminishing  returns 
it  was  perceived  that  an  economic  philosophy  had  been 
created.  The  several  concrete  propositions  of  which  the 
new  political  economy  was  made  up  could  be  more  readily 
proved  by  making  them  appear  to  be  deductions  from  the 
law  of  diminishing  returns,  than  by  stating  them  as  inde- 
pendent propositions,  and  offering  for  each  one  the  induc- 
tive proof  on  which  it  was  originally  based.  It  thus 
happened  that  the  last  law  to  be  discovered  was  placed 
first,  and  the  earlier  laws  were  made  dependent  on  it. 
This  transposition  always  takes  place  when  a  science 
changes  from  ah  inductive  to  a  deductive  form.  This 
instance  is  specially  notable  because  the  whole  develop- 
ment took  place  in  so  short  a  time,  and  all  the  material 
for  a  study  of  its  transposition  is  so  completely  at  hand. 


310  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

It  is  a  mistake,  however,  to  assume  that  the  deductive 
reasoning  with  which  we  are  now  so  familiar  was  the 
work  of  Ricardo.  He  was  a  true  economist,  working 
from  the  concrete  facts  by  which  he  was  surrounded,  and 
gradually  broadening  his  generalizations  as  his  study  of 
the  facts  became  more  complete.  The  new  economic 
philosophy  was  the  result  of  a  union  of  the  economists 
with  the  utilitarians  who  were  led  by  Bentham  and  James 
Mill.  The  economists  who  had  a  definite  programme 
wished  for  concrete  changes  in  English  laws  and  social 
conditions.  Bentham  and  his  followers  had  a  principle 
and  a  formula,  but  no  applications  or  content.  They 
believed  in  pleasure,  but  had  no  idea  of  what  it  was  or 
how  it  was  to  be  attained.  They  were  earnest  opponents 
of  a  needless  infliction  of  pain,  and  on  this  ground  de- 
manded a  revision  of  the  criminal  law.  Carried  away  by 
their  enthusiasm  for  Newtonian  reasoning,  they  believed 
that  each  science  had  some  one  principle  from  which  all 
its  subordinate  parts  were  derived.  They  hoped  to  make 
utility  the  great  principle  in  all  moral  and  social  affairs, 
but  thus  far  they  had  been  able  to  do  nothing  more  than 
to  state  their  theory  clearly.  They  could  discover  no 
applications  that  would  make  utility  a  practical  standard 
by  which  to  judge  concrete  measures.  It  is  easy  to  see 
the  value  of  the  new  economics  with  its  potential 
philosophy  to  men  who  were  too  abstract  and  too  theo- 
retical to  study  at  first  hand  the  new  industrial  phenomena. 
In  Bentham's  huge  volumes  there  are  millions  of  words, 
but  he  never  once  attempts  a  study  or  a  presentation  of 
facts.  He  has  one  general  proposition  which  he  tries  in 
a  thousand  ways  to  make  definite,  but  without  success, 
because  he  knew  little  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived. 
Although  James  Mill  is  more  concise,  his  dogmatism  and 
his  love  of  Newtonian  reasoning  kept  him  equally  far 
from  the  facts  upon  which  the  reforms  he  hoped  for  must 
depend.     The  work  of  these  men  would  have  resulted  in 


THE  ECONOMISTS  311 

nothing  but  platitudes  if  it  had  not  been  for  a  lucky  con- 
tact with  Ricardo  and  Malthus. 

It  is  often  said  that  Ricardo  was  a  disciple  of  James 
Mill,  but  there  is  little  to  prove  the  assertion.  Ricardo 
had  worked  out  all  of  his  concrete  propositions  before  he 
met  either  James  Mill  or  Bentham,  with  the  transforma- 
tion of  economics  into  a  philosophy  he  had  little  to  do. 
Doubtless  the  transformation  would  have  taken  place 
without  the  aid  of  James  Mill  and  Bentham,  but  it  would 
not  have  been  so  sudden  or  so  complete.  From  the  time 
the  economists  and  utilitarians  united,  the  practical  pro- 
gramme was  Ricardo's.  By  adopting  his  ideas,  Bentham 
and  James  Mill  really  became  his  disciples.  It  is  there- 
fore proper  to  attach  the  name  of  Ricardo  to  the  measures 
and  doctrines  which  the  united  group  advocated ;  but  it 
is  a  mistake  to  assume  that  he  reasoned  in  the  bold  de- 
ductive manner  which  later  became  fashionable.  The 
errors  and  advantages  of  this  deductive  reasoning  came 
from  Bentham  and  James  Mill.  It  was  their  contribution 
to  that  new  economic  philosophy  which  was  destined  to 
revolutionize  English  thought. 

To  appreciate  the  revolutionary  character  of  the  eco- 
nomic philosophy  of  Ricardo  and  his  followers,  and  to  con- 
trast their  point  of  view  with  the  traditional  one,  we  must 
review  the  whole  intellectual  struggle  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  natural  theologians  who  were  the  dominant 
party  of  that  time  used  sweeping  deductive  arguments  to 
uphold  their  position,  while  their  opponents  were  a  group 
of  men  whose  reasoning  was  concrete,  and  who  regarded 
religion  and  morality  from  a  common-sense  view  which 
arose  out  of  the  conditions  of  their  immediate  environment. 
In  England  the  scientific  point  of  view  was  not  yet  created, 
and  it  was  not  until  after  the  epoch  of  which  I  am  now 
writing  that  its  influence  on  any  great  question  of  the  day 
was  perceptible.     What  little  there  was  of  science  assisted 


312  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

the  natural  theologians  because  the  Newtonian  reasoning 
was  so  deductive.  Even  the  doctrines  of  Newton  were 
accepted  very  slowly,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  century  the 
popular  text-books  still  rejected  them  or  put  them  in  a 
form  which  hid  their  importance,  an  instance  of  which  is 
found  in  the  self-congratulation  of  Wesley  that  Newton's 
system  had  been  overthrown  by  a  popular  writer.  The 
situation  was  changed  early  in  the  nineteenth  century  ; 
for  then  the  same  doctrines  were  not  only  received,  but 
were  eagerly  put  forward  as  the  models  of  good  reasoning. 
By  that  time  even  economists,  political  reformers,  and  other 
concrete  thinkers  had  absorbed  the  elements  of  Newton's 
position,  and  as  a  result  transformed  their  concrete  propo- 
sitions into  abstract  formulae.  Men  began  to  see  a  con- 
trolling principle  for  the  concrete  propositions  of  social 
sciences,  just  as  they  realized  the  vital  importance  of  the 
law  of  gravitation  to  the  already  familiar  deductions  of 
natural  philosophy.  For  the  first  time  the  natural  theolo- 
gians were  met  on  their  own  ground  with  arguments 
fully  as  sweeping  and  deductive.  As  the  older  philoso- 
phy was  theological,  so  the  new  was  economic  and  social 
in  its  content,  although  neither  party  was  as  yet  affected 
by  what  we  now  call  science,  except  in  the  form  of  its 
arguments. 

Bentham  seems  to  have  been  the  first  to  catch  the  New- 
tonian idea  and  to  utilize  it  in  his  schemes  of  reform. 
He  did  not  originate  the  doctrine  of  utility  so  intimately 
associated  with  his  name.  He  was  the  first,  however,  to 
apply  the  doctrine  deductively,  and  to  hold  rigidly  to  the 
consequences  flowing  from  it.  Pleasure  and  pain  were 
given  a  place  in  social  reasoning,  similar  to  that  of  gravita- 
tion in  physical  science.  In  practice,  however,  Bentham's 
utilitarianism  was  negative,  for  he  emphasized  the  removal 
of  pain  more  than  the  acquisition  of  pleasure.  This  em- 
phasis was  due  to  his  interest  in  law  and  in  penal  insti- 
tutions.    The  positive  or  pleasure  side  of  his  scheme  he 


THE  ECONOMISTS  313 

never  developed,  because  in  his  long  life  there  was  not 
time  enough  to  carry  through  the  reforms  in  his  chosen 
field.  The  only  positive  doctrine  he  upheld  was  that  of 
security,  which  he  placed  above  equality  ;  it  was  for  this 
reason  that  he  did  not  come  into  practical  opposition  to 
the  ruling  classes  of  his  day.  An  aristocracy  had  little  to 
fear  from  a  man  who  made  security  the  first  principle  of 
law.  Bentham's  long-range  deductions  would  have  dis- 
turbed no  one  of  themselves,  and  hence  would  have  had 
little  influence. 

As  Ricardo's  position  and  power  were  due  to  qualities 
which  Bentham  lacked,  the  latter's  work  was  excellently 
supplemented  by  that  of  Ricardo.  Ricardo  was  a  practical 
man,  and  well  equipped  as  to  the  facts  of  the  new  eco- 
nomic world.  He  was  not  naturally  a  deductive  reasoner, 
and  the  reputation  he  has  acquired  in  this  regard  is  due  to 
accident  rather  than  to  design.  He  succeeded  in  making 
great  generalizations,  not  so  much  from  what  he  knew,  as 
from  what  he  did  not  know.  On  the  one  hand  he  did  not 
feel  the  force  of  English  natural  religion,  and  on  the  other 
hand  he  was  a  city  man  who,  until  late  in  life,  knew  nothing 
of  country  conditions.  These  two  facts,  which  made  the 
economic  world  seem  simple,  made  bold  deductions  easy  for 
him.  Others  saw  what  he  saw ;  but  they  were  kept  from 
using  the  knowledge  thus  acquired  deductively,  because  of 
their  theological  prejudices  or  their  bias  for  an  agricultural 
society.  Left  to  himself  Ricardo,  like  Bentham,  would 
have  been  an  innocent  theorist  about  whom  no  practical 
man  would  have  bothered  himself.  His  two  great  theo- 
ries would  have  dealt  with  money  and  free  trade,  and 
both  might  have  been  adopted  without  any  serious 
change  in  public  opinion.  The  man  who  brought  the 
ideas  of  Bentham  and  Ricardo  down  from  the  clouds,  and 
fashioned  from  them  practical  instruments  of  reform,  was 
James  Mill,  who,  more  than  any  one  else,  created  the  new 
economic  philosophy,  and  made  its  influence  felt.    We  can, 


314  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

therefore,  justly  regard  him  as  its  representative,  and  ex- 
amine its  contents  in  the  form  he  put  them. 

The  peculiarities  that  made  James  Mill  influential  came 
from  the  fact  that  he  was  a  Calvinist  by  birth  and  re- 
tained through  all  his  life  the  characteristics  for  which 
men  of  this  type  are  remarkable.  That  he  discarded  re- 
ligious notions  early  in  life  is  of  little  consequence  so  long 
as  he  retained  the  mode  of  thought  and  manifested  the 
mental  traits  he  had  inherited.  Calvinists  are  noted  for 
the  strict  way  in  which  they  reason,  and  for  the  boldness 
with  which  they  carry  their  principles  into  details.  Dis- 
liking exceptions  and  compromises,  they  readily  accept 
disagreeable  conclusions  if  these  seem  to  be  deductions 
from  general  principles. 

This  attitude  is  a  development  of  the  clan  life  of  primi- 
tive times.  The  highest  development  of  clans  is  reached 
in  isolated  mountain  regions,  where  the  food  supply  is 
limited  and  the  opposition  of  interests  between  man  and 
man  is  greatest.  There  results  an  inevitable  hatred  of  all 
outsiders  and  an  intense  attachment  to  all  local  resources 
upon  which  survival  depends.  Security  is  obtained  by 
keeping  others  away  and  by  destroying  as  many  of  their 
resources  as  possible.  So  long  as  these  feelings  remain, 
objects  of  hatred  are  as  essential  as  objects  of  pleasure. 
Security  and  happiness  seem  impossible  until  the  hated 
thing  is  destroyed.  Primitive  instincts  prompt  such  men 
to  gain  their  ends  through  the  destruction  of  others. 
After  a  higher  form  of  civilization  has  influenced  men 
of  this  type,  they  retain  their  earlier  characteristics  of 
thought.  An  extension  of  the  concept  of  the  clan  makes 
it  include  their  religious  comrades,  or  in  national  affairs 
their  nation.  In  the  improved  economic  environment  into 
which  the  clan  has  come,  women  begin  to  exercise  charity. 
The  man  still  hates  strangers,  but  his  wife  feeds  them 
at  the  back  door.  Gradually  the  wife's  instincts  become 
dominant  and  are  accepted  as  a  part  of  religion. 


THE   ECONOMISTS  315 

The  original  Calvinist  was  a  man  of  this  type,  restrained 
by  the  love  of  God  and  by  charity  towards  men.  His  phi- 
losophy was  bad,  a  remnant  of  times  when  every  man's 
hand  was  against  his  neighbour.  As  most  pains  then 
came  from  antagonistic  men,  a  philosophy  that  justified 
wholesale  destruction  was  the  only  one  that  ensured  sur- 
vival. But  the  evils  of  this  philosophy  were  neutralized 
by  charity,  a  love  of  God,  and  a  respect  for  His  revealed 
word.  The  Calvinist  was  thus  always  convincing  himself 
by  his  philosophy  that  he  ought  to  do  dreadful  things, 
but  rarely  doing  them  because  of  the  restraints  of  his 
religion  and  his  wife.  After  fully  justifying  his  position 
on  theoretical  grounds,  he  finally  gave  in  to  his  wife,  or 
found  some  Scriptural  passage  that  checked  his  activity. 

I  explain  in  this  way  the  mental  traits  of  many  men, 
who  have  thrown  off  the  faith  in  which  they  were  reared. 
When  a  Calvinist  rejects  God,  the  primitive  characteris- 
tics of  the  race  again  come  to  the  front;  he  has  a 
primitive  philosophy  without  the  restraints  of  Christian- 
ity. In  the  case  of  James  Mill  there  was  more  than  this, 
because  the  economic  philosophy  that  he  accepted  under 
the  influence  of  Malthus  made  him  reject  charity  as  well 
as  religion.  It  was  an  article  of  the  new  creed  that 
charity  was  a  mistake,  if  not  a  crime.  To  aid  the  people 
who  did  not  have  reserved  seats  at  Nature's  feast  not  only 
did  them  no  good,  but  even  injured  others  who  had  better 
claims.  Men  are  not  responsible  for  the  lack  of  food  that 
creates  suffering,  and  they  injure  society  if  they  try  to 
relieve  this  natural  result  of  overpopulation.  The  creed 
of  James  Mill  was  thus  Calvinism  minus  God  and  charity, 
and  when  carried  to  its  logical  results,  revived  a  mental 
attitude  found  only  in  a  pure  pain  economy.  The  new 
economic  philosophy  pictured  the  world  in  the  same  way 
that  a  primitive  man  pictures  the  cramped  valley  where 
he  was  born.  When  men  left  these  limited  areas,  they 
thought  that  they  had  acquired  unending  possibilities  of 


316  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

better  things.  The  new  world  was  so  different  from  the 
old  that  the  opposition  of  interests  between  men  seemed 
to  have  disappeared.  But  the  theory  of  population,  the 
law  of  rent,  and  that  of  diminishing  returns  destroyed 
this  pleasing  prospect,  and  forced  men  to  picture  the 
world  as  if  it  were  no  better  than  a  narrow  mountain  val- 
ley with  limited  resources.  The  more  men  increased  in 
numbers,  the  greater  became  the  opposition  of  interests 
and  the  struggle  for  food.  The  primitive  philosophy  of 
earlier  days  was  again  justified,  as  the  only  creed  for  men 
whose  logical  instincts  were  not  restrained  by  religion  or 
charity. 

James  Mill  was  a  leader  in  this  movement.  His  friends, 
like  Bentham,  felt  that  his  interests  were  self-centred,  and 
that  his  motives  to  activity  were  prompted  not  by  what 
he  loved,  but  by  what  he  disliked.  There  is  no  evidence 
that  when  he  gave  up  religion  he  abandoned  the  modes  of 
thought  in  which  he  was  educated.  He  carried  out  the 
Calvinistic  philosophy  without  making  the  exceptions  that 
enlightened  Calvinists  were  accustomed  to  make.  His 
utilitarianism  was  thus  nominal.  His  own  son  admits 
that  he  had  "scarcely  any  belief  in  pleasure,"  and  that  "he 
deemed  very  few  of  them  [pleasures]  worth  the  price  which, 
at  least  in  the  present  state  of  society,  must  be  paid  for 
them."  He  looked  on  all  attempts  to  intensify  the  exist- 
ing pleasures  with  "scornful  disapprobation."  The  mo- 
tives for  activity  and  the  sources  of  his  real  pleasures  lay 
in  his  opposition  to  the  classes  and  the  doctrines  he  hated. 
Being  a  radical  and  a  democrat,  his  opposition  was  di- 
rected primarily  against  the  English  aristocracy.  He 
hoped  for  progress  by  means  of  a  levelling  process  which 
would  bring  all  men  into  a  state  of  equality. 

This  early  antagonism  to  aristocracy  was  increased  by 
his  acceptance  of  the  economic  doctrines  of  Ricardo.  The 
aristocracy  were  at  the  same  time  the  landlords,  and  thus 
received  the  greater  part   of   the   land   rents.     Ricardo 


THE  ECONOMISTS  317 

taught  that  rent  was  not  a  creation  of  wealth,  but  a  trans- 
fer of  wealth  from  capitalists  to  landlords.  Maintaining 
that  profits  fall  as  rents  rise,  he  argued  that  the  growing 
income  of  landlords  was  due  to  the  higher  price  which 
the  poor  pay  for  bread.  Thus  was  acquired  a  new  reason 
for  hating  the  aristocracy,  who  were  not  only  the  political 
masters  of  England  and  ruled  it  for  their  own  advantage, 
but  who  also  shaped  its  economic  policy  for  the  promotion 
of  their  own  interests.  By  adding  the  thought  that  the 
clergy  were  their  natural  allies,  obtaining  incomes  from 
the  rent  of  the  land  also,  the  three  objects  against  which 
the  energies  of  the  Radical  party  were  directed  became 
merged  in  a  single  class  which  controlled  the  Church,  the 
State,  and  the  land.  James  Mill  was  thus  able  to  draw 
up  a  practical  programme  which  applied  the  theories  of 
Bentham  and  Ricardo  to  a  living  question ;  but  by 
destroying  the  breadth  of  view  which  these  theories 
tended  to  create,  he  stopped  their  further  development. 
The  attack  on  the  aristocracy  began  in  the  first  Re- 
form Bill,  and  ended  in  the  adoption  of  Free  Trade. 
The  government  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  newly  formed 
class  of  capitalists  which  was  mainly  made  up  of  Calvinists 
who  kept  the  old  forms  of  thought,  and  the  opposition  of 
interests  characteristic  of  clannish  life.  The  creed  which 
James  Mill  taught  and  the  machinery  of  hate  which  he 
set  in  motion  were  thus  directed  against  the  labourers, 
and  not  as  he  had  intended  against  the  aristocracy.  His 
programme  formed  a  good  excuse  for  increasing  profits 
and  extending  trade  at  the  expense  of  those  whom  indus- 
try and  trade  are  supposed  to  aid.  Along  with  the  rise  of 
profits,  rents  and  tithes  went  up,  thereby  unifying  the  in- 
terests of  the  aristocracy,  the  clergy,  and  the  capitalists 
The  new  economic  creed  thus  destroyed  the  basis  on 
which  the  popular  party  rested,  for  it  left  the  labourers 
without  grounds  upon  which  to  resist  the  aggressions  of 
their  masters.     This  situation  must  be  grasped  in  order 


318  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

to  understand  the  mental  attitude  with  which  John 
Stuart  Mill  began  his  work.  No  wonder  he  asserted 
that  the  great  industrial  improvement  had  not  aided  the 
labourers,  and  that  he  was  despondent  over  the  prospects 
of  social  progress.  The  philosophy  of  hate  had  to  be  dis- 
carded and  a  true  utilitarianism  substituted. 

The  creed  of  the  economic  utilitarians  neglected  too 
many  elements  of  human  nature,  and  broke  too  radically 
with  the  history  of  the  race  to  be  enduring.  Although 
the  new  creed  aroused  enthusiasm  and  aided  in  the  ref- 
ormation of  abuses,  it  did  not  contain  the  elements  of 
progress.  The  needed  development  was  given  by  the 
younger  Mill  whose  whole  life  was  a  conflict  between 
the  motives  created  by  his  education  and  those  that  har- 
monized with  the  natural  bent  of  his  character.  The  lat- 
ter motives  gradually  asserted  themselves  at  the  expense 
of  the  former,  and  thus  there  was  effected  a  development 
in  English  thought  which  brought  into  harmony  two  ten- 
dencies in  English  character  that  had  been  previously 
antagonistic.  Ideas  and  doctrines  become  effective  only 
when  they  are  adopted  by  a  certain  type  of  men  as  a 
means  of  advancing  their  active  interests,  or  of  harmoniz- 
ing these  with  the  interests  of  other  types  of  men.  This 
transformation  of  ideas  into  effective  social  forces  usually 
takes  place  long  after  the  period  of  discovery  or  formula- 
tion, so  that  such  ideas  are  of  more  importance  to  the  dis- 
tant future  than  to  the  age  in  which  they  become  known. 
Mill's  peculiarities  lie  in  the  fact  that  he  had  the  educa- 
tion fitted  for  men  of  one  psychic  type,  while  he  really 
belonged  to  another  type.  His  father,  who  guided  his 
education,  was  a  good  example  of  a  manly  man  who  made 
his  way  by  the  force  of  his  will  power,  and  carried  out  his 
convictions  with  remorseless  energy.  The  son,  however, 
was  by  nature  a  womanly  man  in  the  sense  that  I  have 
used  this  term  —  perhaps  the  best  example  of  such  a  man 


THE   ECONOMISTS  319 

history  has  given  us.  His  early  life  was  passed  in  a  world 
from  which  women  were  practically  excluded,  his  com- 
panions being  manly  men.  But  he  soon  showed  his  need 
of  womanly  advice  and  inspiration,  and  broke  with  his 
old  friends  to  get  them.  This  fact  would  have  been  of 
no  consequence  in  a  society  controlled  by  manly  men,  but 
in  England  at  this  time  the  popular  party  were  largely 
dominated  by  womanly  ideas. 

The  Calvinists  had  been  influenced  by  the  ideals  for 
which  women  stand,  and,  since  Wesley's  death,  the 
Methodists  exhibited  the  same  tendencies.  The  latter 
were  as  pronounced  advocates  of  home  ideals  as  the 
Calvinists,  and  were  well  known  for  their  opposition  to 
dissipation  and  vice.  The  two  wings  of  the  popular 
religion  thus  tended  to  come  together.  The  Methodists 
accepted  in  the  main  Calvin's  theology,  while  the  Cal- 
vinists caught  Wesley's  spirit,  and  gave  up  their  opposi- 
tion to  his  formulation  of  the  doctrine  of  free  will.  There 
was,  therefore,  in  the  tendencies  of  the  two  sects  a  har- 
mony which  showed  itself  in  all  public  questions.  They 
formed  the  backbone  of  the  new  Liberal  party,  which 
they  forced  to  accept  their  standpoint  and  to  champion 
their  ideas.  This  popular  religion,  however,  was  no 
nearer  a  utilitarian  standpoint  than  that  of  the  old  Cal- 
vinism. Its  leaders  opposed  any  indulgence  in  pleasures, 
and  had  no  concept  of  a  social  Utopia  to  be  reached  by  the 
gradual  development  of  society.  Their  philosophy  was 
based  on  the  thought  of  avoiding  pain,  and  their  logic 
was  deductive  and  dogmatic.  Mill  had  the  temperament 
of  this  popular  party,  and  with  their  education  would  have 
shared  their  feelings  and  prejudices.  He  represented  an 
element  which  could  be  united  with  the  popular  party, 
but  many  readjustments  were  necessary  on  both  sides 
before  any  harmony  was  possible. 

Mill  began  life,  he  tells  us,  with  one  object,  —  to  be  a 
reformer.     The  word  "  reformer  "  has  always  been  made 


320  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

to  mean  a  corrector  of  abuses,  and  Mill's  statements  show 
that  this  was  the  sense  in  which  he  understood  it.  A 
reformation  is  a  return  to  some  primitive  ideal,  and  not 
a  development  or  an  evolution.  The  satisfaction  of  a 
reformer  is  in  the  destruction  he  causes ;  and  when  this 
destruction  is  complete,  and  primitive  conditions  are  re- 
stored, or  a  tabula  rasa  prepared,  his  work  is  done.  The 
crisis  in  Mill's  life  came  when  he  saw  the  inadequacy  of 
this  programme.  To  punish  enemies,  to  overthrow  bad 
doctrines,  to  remove  old  prejudices,  affords  but  a  tempo- 
rary pleasure  to  one  who  has  formed  a  utilitarian  ideal  of 
the  future  of  society. 

Bentham  represented  merely  the  negative  side  of  utili- 
tarianism. Society  was  to  be  improved  by  burdening  the 
evil-doer  until  he  ceased  to  do  wrong.  He  had  no  plan 
for  so  increasing  the  pleasure  of  doing  good  deeds  that 
they  would  be  freely  chosen.  Equality  was  to  be  secured 
by  reducing  the  advantage  of  those  whose  happiness  rep- 
resented more  than  one,  rather  than  by  increasing  the 
pleasure  of  those  whose  well-being  represented  less  than 
one.  The  economic  philosophy  increased  these  nega- 
tive aspects  of  progress  by  making  it  depend  on  the 
cutting  off  of  the  weak  and  inefficient.  The  new  pro- 
gramme might  be  summarized  by  saying  that  all  above 
the  average  man  were  to  be  removed,  because  they  were 
oppressors  of  the  less  fortunate ;  while  those  below  the 
average  were  to  be  destroyed,  because  they  were  a  burden 
on  the  more  fortunate.  Could  this  programme  have  been 
realized,  society  would  have  been  without  any  progressive 
forces.  Appreciating  this,  Mill  became  dissatisfied  with 
his  earlier  plans.  His  education  had  given  him  no  ideals 
by  which  positive  pleasures  were  to  be  increased;  but 
through  the  mental  depression  which  followed  his  dis- 
appointment, he  gained  a  concept  of  positive  pleasures. 
The  study  of  Wordsworth's  poetry  seems  to  have  given 
him  the  first  notion  of  pleasures  that  do  not  depend  on  an 


THE  ECONOMISTS  321 

opposition  of  interests  between  men.  In  a  love  of  nature 
there  is  no  zeal  for  destruction,  nor  does  one  man's  pleas- 
ure interfere  with  that  of  others.  There  is  also  in  the 
love  of  nature  no  place  for  that  bread  philosophy  which 
assumes  that  particles  of  happiness  are  associated  with 
particles  of  wealth,  and  that  what  one  man  gets  is  at  the 
loss  of  some  one  else.  A  second  influence  in  this  direction 
came  from  Sterling,  with  whom  Mill  became  intimate,  and 
still  more  important  was  the  influence  of  the  new  group 
of  French  socialists  led  by  Saint-Simon.  Mill  had  been 
taught  to  regard  work  as  painful,  and  to  view  all  eco- 
nomic effort  as  disagreeable.  He  was  soon  made  to  see  that 
work  itself  might  become  pleasurable,  and  that  a  society 
could  exist  in  which  the  pleasure  of  consumption  was  not 
counterbalanced  by  the  pain  of  production. 

While  it  is  impossible  to  determine  the  exact  effect 
on  Mill's  thought  of  these  and  other  influences,  the  net 
result  is  plain.  Mill  acquired  a  new  ideal  of  social  prog- 
ress, and  adopted  a  new  plan  of  attaining  it.  Had  the 
new  ideal  come  to  him  as  suddenly  as  the  old  one  disap- 
peared, there  would  have  been  a  mental  revolution,  and  a 
new  start,  perhaps,  along  the  lines  of  the  philosophical 
Utopists.  But  he  was  held  by  his  logical  training,  so 
that  the  form  of  his  thought  remained  suited  to  a  negative 
utilitarianism  long  after  he  had  acquired  positive  ideals  of 
pleasure.  So  long  as  the  destruction  of  the  bad,  the  weak, 
and  the  inefficient  is  the  end  of  reasoning,  it  will  be  boldly 
deductive  and  a  priori.  Social  surgery  is  a  crude  process, 
and  sharply  drawn  lines  are  the  best  means  of  effecting  it. 
When  men  reflect  on  the  process  and  try  to  justify  it, 
they  accept  rigid  premises  which  conform  to  prevailing 
prejudices,  and  adhere  boldly  to  the  consequences.  Social 
reasoning  starts  from  deductive  premises,  and  remains 
deductive  as  long  as  negative  notions  of  progress  prevail. 
But  when  positive  ideals  are  acquired,  social  reasoning 
assumes  an  inductive  form.     Pleasures  are  concrete  and 


322  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

are  matters  of  experience ;  men  realize  them  only  through 
inspection  and  observation. 

Mill  felt  the  force  of  this  fact  as  soon  as  his  mental 
crisis  had  destroyed  his  confidence  in  negative  utilitarian- 
ism. He  now  lost  his  interest  in  those  a  priori  discus- 
sions of  political  questions  which  had  been  his  chief  joy ; 
but  it  was  only  after  a  long  struggle  that  he  could  so 
recast  his  logical  notions  as  to  justify  purely  inductive 
reasoning.  He  never  broke  entirely  with  the  methods  of 
his  father,  but  he  advanced  far  enough  along  the  new 
path  to  show  others  its  possibilities. 

To  appreciate  the  logical  problem  which  confronted 
Mill,  we  must  recognize  the  character  of  the  scientific 
activity  of  his  day.  Practically  there  were  but  two 
recognized  sciences.  All  physical  science  was  included 
under  natural  philosophy,  of  which  the  Newtonian  laws 
were  the  dominant  element,  and  what  people  knew  of  this 
science  was  limited  to  the  bold  deductions  of  astronomy 
and  kindred  topics.  Striking  deductions  like  that  con- 
cerning the  speed  of  light,  or  like  those  upon  which  a  navi- 
gator on  a  long  voyage  depended,  attracted  attention  and 
became  the  standard  by  which  all  proof  was  judged.  In 
moral  science  the  supremacy  of  political  economy  was 
equally  marked.  The  sciences  which  were  not  absorbed 
in  political  economy  or  refuted  by  it  were  regarded  as  too 
hazy  and  uncertain  to  deserve  attention.  The  bold  de- 
ductions of  Adam  Smith  and  Ricardo  had  made  a  priori 
reasoning  as  well  known  in  moral  topics  as  Newton's 
method  was  in  physical  science.  Deductive  reasoning 
was  never  more  popular  than  when  Mill  began  his  work, 
and,  like  every  one  else,  he  was  under  its  spell. 

Mill's  original  position  is  presented  in  an  early  essay  on 
the  Definition  and  Method  of  Political  Economy,1  written 

1  Essays  on  Some  Unsettled  Questions  of  Political  Economy.  Essay 
V,  On  the  Definition  of  Political  Economy,  and  on  the  Method  of  Inves- 
tigation proper  to  it. 


THE  ECONOMISTS  323 

while  he  was  still  under  the  influence  of  his  father,  and 
published  before  the  Logic  was  planned.  Like  others  of 
his  day,  he  had  but  two  sciences  clearly  in  mind,  and  he 
talks  of  the  distinction  between  political  economy  and 
physical  science  (natural  philosophy)  as  if  they  were  the 
only  sciences  in  existence.  Practically  he  was  right. 
There  were  well-defined  rules  for  making  nations  wealthy 
and  for  describing  the  courses  of  planets  ;  but  other  topics 
of  investigation  were  too  little  known  by  the  public  to 
exert  any  influence  on  logical  methods  or  to  have  their 
field  defined.  Political  economy  had  become  moral  science, 
because  all  social,  moral,  political,  and  psychic  considera- 
tions have  an  influence  on  the  creation  of  wealth.  There 
was  no  part  of  the  old  moral  science  that  the  phenomena 
of  wealth  did  not  reach.  All  social  facts  thus  became 
a  part  of  political  economy,  and  were  judged  by  its 
standards. 

James  Mill  had  defined  political  economy  as  the  econ- 
omy of  the  state  in  contrast  with  the  domestic  economy 
of  the  family.  A  domestic  economy  included  everything 
relating  to  private  life  ;  so  political  economy  included 
all  that  related  to  public  affairs.  The  son  goes  even 
further,  and  calls  it  the  science  relating  to  the  "moral 
or  psychological  laws  of  the  production  and  distribution 
of  wealth,"  thus  bringing  not  only  moral  but  mental 
phenomena  within  the  scope  of  economic  investigations. 
He  also  says  that  "it  traces  the  laws  of  such  of  the 
phenomena  of  society  as  arise  from  the  combined  opera- 
tion of  mankind  for  the  production  of  wealth."  Surely 
no  broader  field  could  be  asked  than  this.  It  amounts  to 
what  we  should  now  call  an  economic  interpretation  of 
society.  Economists  of  course  admitted  that  social  affairs 
might  be  considered  in  other  lights  than  those  of  political 
economy,  but  no  one  treated  them  so  in  practice.  If  rigid 
economic  laws  failed  to  work  out  all  right,  economists  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  modify  their  premises.     They 


324  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

admitted  the  possibility  of  disturbing  causes,  and  assumed 
without  investigation  that  some  of  these  had  created  the 
discrepancy  between  the  theory  and  the  facts. 

Filled  with  such  ideas,  Mill  spent  his  time  in  drawing 
distinctions  between  science  and  art,  between  the  ab- 
stract and  the  concrete,  between  a  priori  and  a  posteriori 
methods.  The  a  priori  method  is,  he  claims,  the  only 
method  suited  to  the  study  of  first  causes.  When  these 
are  once  determined,  the  theory  of  disturbing  causes  is 
to  be  used  to  discover  secondary  causes  overlooked  in 
the  original  investigation. 

These  statements  clearly  show  Mill's  mental  attitude 
when  he  began  to  write  his  Logic.  His  scheme  was  to 
strengthen  social  speculations  by  showing  that  the  method 
of  investigation  used  in  them  was  that  used  in  physical 
science.  But  as  all  he  knew  of  social  speculations  was 
confined  to  political  economy,  and  his  knowledge  of 
physical  science  did  not  extend  beyond  the  Newtonian 
laws,  it  was  practically  a  scheme  to  strengthen  the  posi- 
tion of  political  economy  by  showing  that  its  method 
was  the  same  as  that  used  by  Newton,  which  he  sup- 
posed was  the  basis  of  all  physical  investigations.  Had 
he  carried  out  his  original  plan,  the  Logic  would  have 
contained  little  more  than  a  book  on  definitions,  a  sec- 
ond on  demonstration,  and  a  final  book  —  to  which  the 
other  two  would  have  been  an  introduction  —  on  the 
logic  of  the  moral  sciences,  with  illustrations  and  methods 
taken  from  political  economy. 

The  scope  of  the  original  plan  can  be  best  determined 
from  the  first  six  chapters  of  the  Booh  on  the  Logic  of  the 
Moral  Sciences.  Here  his  ideas  have  changed  but  little 
from  what  they  were  in  the  early  days  when  he  was  a 
disciple  of  his  father.  The  latter  part  of  the  book, 
which  is  on  the  different  methods  of  investigation,  is 
of  later  origin.  He  seems  to  have  acquired  the  first 
thought   of  several   methods  of  investigation  only  after 


THE  ECONOMISTS  325 

reading  Macaulay's  review  of  his  father's  Essay  on  Gov- 
ernment. This  thought  was  not  fully  developed,  how- 
ever, until  he  had  read  Comte's  Philosophy  and  had 
discovered  the  difference  between  deductive  and  induc- 
tive sciences  through  a  study  of  chemistry. 

To  get  at  the  central  thought  of  this  new  attempt  to 
put  social  studies  on  a  scientific  basis,  we  must  return 
to  the  efforts  of  Hume  in  the  same  field.  The  chief 
opposition  to  social  studies  came  from  the  popular  belief 
in  the  freedom  of  the  will ;  for  it  seemed  impossible  to 
justify  reasoning  on  social  topics  so  long  as  it  was  asserted 
that  the  wills  of  men  were  under  no  fixed  law.  Hume 
had  tried  to  meet  this  objection  in  a  direct  manner  by 
a  study  of  the  passions,  where  he  hoped  to  show  that 
the  actions  of  men  followed  laws  as  plainly  as  other 
events  follow  the  causes  that  precede  them.  But  this 
attempt  broke  down,  and  Hume  retracted  much  that 
he  had  written  about  the  control  of  the  passions.  He 
never  gave  up  the  original  thought;  his  influence  and 
example  were  on  the  side  of  law  in  social  topics,  and 
stimulated  his  followers  to  fresh  efforts.  Mill  took  up 
the  problem,  hoping  to  do  what  Hume  and  others  had 
failed  to  do.  The  Logic  may  be  readily  divided  into 
two  parts :  the  shell  or  formal  part,  in  which  Mill  tries 
to  complete  the  work  of  Hume,  and  lay  the  foundation 
of  a  broad  social  science  based  on  the  study  of  character ; 
and,  second,  the  new  theory  of  induction  born  of  his 
own  studies  in  the  methods  by  which  new  truths  are  dis- 
covered. Like  other  writers  of  great  books,  he  meant 
to  do  one  thing,  but,  following  the  natural  curve  of  his 
thought,  he  accomplished  something  different  from  what 
he  expected. 

In  the  shell  of  the  book  the  discussion  centres  around 
the  free-will  controversy.  Mill  differs  from  Hume  in 
that  his  starting-point  is  the  Hartleian  metaphysics  as 
expanded  by  his  father  into  a  theory  of  the  mental  pro- 


326  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

cesses.  Hume's  studies  lay  primarily  in  the  field  of  the 
passions.  He  made  a  fairly  good  statement  of  the  laws 
of  the  association  of  ideas,  but  he  did  not  raise  them  into 
a  science  of  the  rational  process,  as  was  done  by  Hartley 
and  James  Mill.  Hume  thought  primarily  of  the  pas- 
sionate man,  while  John  Stuart  Mill  had  in  mind  the  in- 
tellectual man.  It  was  necessary  for  both  to  refute  the 
doctrine  of  free  will,  and  this  fact  brought  the  formal 
part  of  their  work  into  harmony.  In  Hume's  time  the 
physical  sciences  were  not  advanced  enough  to  render 
much  aid  to  believers  in  the  reign  of  law.  Almost  every 
one  was  superstitious,  and  believed  that  God  was  still 
constantly  working  miracles.  Of  what  use  would  it  have 
been  to  give  illustrations  from  physical  science  to  Wes- 
ley, who  believed  that  his  father's  house  was  haunted  ? 
Hume  was  therefore  compelled  to  contest  the  validity  of 
miracles,  and  to  prove  the  reality  of  law  in  human  affairs 
by  citing  examples  taken  from  the  actions  of  men  when 
controlled  by  passion.  Taking  advantage  of  the  advance 
in  physical  science,  John  Stuart  Mill  attempted  to  prove 
the  presence  of  law  in  moral  science  by  the  fact  that  the 
reign  of  law  in  physical  science  is  universal.  He  further 
wished  to  prove  that  the  method  of  proof  used  in  political 
economy  and  in  the  psychology  of  his  father  was  the 
same  as  that  used  in  physical  science.  These  two  points 
established,  the  foundation  of  the  moral  sciences  was  laid. 
Using  the  a  priori  methods  with  which  he  was  familiar, 
he  could  now  construct  a  science  of  character  upon  a 
sure  foundation. 

His  knowledge  of  physical  science  was  limited  to  the 
Newtonian  laws  as  they  were  popularly  understood.  It 
seemed  easy,  therefore,  to  prove  that  all  scientific  reason- 
ing was  a  priori,  and  by  accumulating  proof  of  the  uni- 
versality of  physical  laws  to  establish  the  presumption 
that  law  was  also  universal  in  social  science.  Like  others 
of  his  day,  he  started  practically  ignorant  of  what  was 


THE  ECONOMISTS  327 

being  accomplished  in  scientific  circles.  There  was  not 
then,  as  now,  a  united  body  of  scientific  investigators. 
Each  man  worked  by  himself,  knowing  little  of  the  prog- 
ress of  co-workers  in  his  own  field,  and  nothing  of  the 
situation  in  related  fields.  No  one  took  time  to  investi- 
gate the  methods  of  investigation  he  was  using,  and  few 
foresaw  the  outcome  of  their  own  work.  Mill,  therefore, 
found  that  he  was  in  a  new  field,  the  material  of  which 
was  greater  than  in  the  old,  and  different  from  it.  His 
interest  in  the  methods  of  discovery  became  so  great 
that  he  abandoned  his  original  plan,  and  devoted  several 
years  to  the  collection  of  new  material  that  threw  light 
on  the  methods  of  inductive  sciences. 

In  this  way  his  Logic  acquired  a  content  different  from 
what  he  had  intended.  He  started  out  to  provide  an  in- 
troduction to  the  moral  sciences,  but  he  soon  lost  sight  of 
this  end  in  his  desire  to  create  a  theory  of  induction  that 
would  be  independent  of  a  priori  methods  of  proof.  He 
had  meant  to  complete  the  work  of  Hume  ;  he  was  now 
animated  by  the  hope  of  finishing  that  of  Locke.  Just  as 
he  was  completing  the  latter  task,  the  philosophy  of 
Comte  revived  his  interest  in  his  original  problem,  and 
gave  him  fresh  hopes  of  solving  it.  In  consequence  a 
double  purpose  runs  through  his  book.  The  shell,  as  I 
have  called  it,  represents  the  influence  of  his  early  edu- 
cation and  sympathies  as  modified  by  Comte,  and  the 
content  gives  the  fruit  of  his  own  studies  stimulated  and 
turned  into  new  channels  by  the  works  of  Dr.  Whewell. 

The  valuable  part  —  by  this  I  mean  the  part  that  has 
influenced  subsequent  thought  —  lies  in  the  content.  Be- 
fore Mill's  time  the  English  public  had  no  conception  of 
science  as  we  now  understand  the  term.  Of  chemistry 
and  the  new  physical  discoveries  but  little  was  known, 
while  biology  and  geology  were  still  in  the  realm  of  fancy, 
all  their  facts  being  open  to  dispute.  Mill  collected  these 
facts  and  investigated  the  method  by  which  the  new  in- 


328  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

ductive  laws  were  discovered.  In  making  this  investiga- 
tion his  early  illusion,  that  a  priori  methods  alone  were 
scientific,  was  dispelled.  Even  the  facts  of  political 
economy  and  psychology  appeared  to  him  in  a  new  light. 
The  old  a  priori  method,  renamed  the  geometrical  method, 
appeared  to  him  as  an  error  into  which  rigid  reasoners 
were  likely  to  fall.  His  new  method  was  a  compound  of 
induction  and  deduction.  First,  there  is  a  purely  induc- 
tive generalization  based  on  experience  ;  this  generaliza- 
tion is  then  used  as  a  premise  for  deduction,  and  finally 
the  conclusions  reached  through  this  deduction  are  verified 
by  fresh  inductions. 

It  is  easy  to  see  where  Mill  found  the  suggestion  of 
this  method  of  research,  although  for  good  reasons  he 
covered  up  his  tracks.  He  found  it  in  the  well-known 
Ricardian  law  of  rent.  Here  was  a  typical  example  with 
which  Mill  had  long  been  familiar — a  plain  induction, 
followed  by  a  bold  deduction  with  plenty  of  verifications. 
The  method  of  Ricardo  was  thus  raised  by  Mill  into  a 
general  law  and  illustrated  by  many  newly  acquired  scien- 
tific facts.  He  had  begun  his  scientific  studies  with  the 
purpose  of  getting  material  to  justify  the  method  which 
his  father  used  in  the  Essay  on  Government,  and  which 
he  himself  expected  to  use  in  his  studies  of  character  ;  he 
ended  in  an  exaltation  of  economic  laws.  He  hoped  to 
use  physical  laws  to  strengthen  moral  laws ;  instead,  he 
elevated  the  position  of  the  inductive  laws  of  physical 
science  by  applying  to  them  the  forms  that  had  been  worked 
out  in  economics.1 

1  It  will  be  asked,  if  this  is  the  source  of  the  deductive  method,  why 
did  not  Mill  use  economic  illustrations  ?  In  what  I  have  called  the  shell 
of  the  book  he  still  hoped  to  strengthen  the  position  of  the  moral  sciences 
by  showing  that  their  method  was  the  same  as  that  of  the  physical 
sciences.  Had  he  proved  his  law  by  economic  examples,  as  well  as  physi- 
cal, he  could  have  derived  no  prestige  for  its  application  in  the  moral 
sciences.  To  convince  his  readers  wholly  by  scientific  examples,  and  then 
to  confront  them  with  the  fact  that  the  Ricardian  doctrines  and  his  new 


THE  ECONOMISTS  329 

I  call  attention  to  these  facts,  because  they  furnish  such 
an  excellent  illustration  of  how  the  methods,  concretely 
worked  out  in  one  science,  become  modified  and  general- 
ized as  they  are  applied  in  other  sciences.  Mill's  two 
great  models  of  reasoning  were  Newton  and  Ricardo.  He 
expected  to  expand  and  strengthen  the  social  sciences  by 
accumulating  illustrations  of  the  use  and  the  success  of 
the  a  priori  method  in  the  physical  sciences.  Coming 
to  these  perfectly  fresh,  he  was  surprised  to  find  a  mass 
of  new  material,  based  on  reasoning  which  did  not  con- 
form to  the  Newtonian  model.  Carried  away  by  these 
new  discoveries,  he  soon  came  to  regard  them  as  the  best 
examples  of  inductive  reasoning.  He  dropped  for  the  time 
being  the  thought  of  strengthening  the  social  sciences,  or 
perhaps  it  is  better  to  say  that  by  a  natural  evolution  of  his 
thought  the  larger  concept  of  a  general  inductive  logic  dis- 
placed his  earlier  and  narrower  plan.  But  the  discipline  of 
his  economic  studies  remained,  and  dominated  his  thought 
in  its  new  form.  His  new  theory  of  reasoning  was  thus 
Ricardianism  generalized  and  stripped  of  its  economic 
associations.  The  effect  of  this  change  was  different  from 
what  Mill  had  anticipated.  By  showing  that  the  supposed 
method  of  Newton 1  was  not  the  real  method  of  discovery 
in  physical  science,  he  destroyed  in  a  large  measure  the 

science  of  ethology  used  the  same  method,  aroused  an  enthusiasm  for 
social  laws  that  otherwise  was  impossible.  Mr.  Bain,  while  collecting  ex- 
amples for  Mill,  asked  him  why  he  did  not  use  psychological  illustrations. 
If  Mr.  Bain  had  been  an  economist,  he  would  have  wondered  still  more 
why  Mill  did  not  use  economic  illustrations.  The  reason  for  Mill's  refusal 
is  evident  in  both  cases.  The  body  of  moral  science  as  he  knew  it  was 
made  up  of  psychology  and  political  economy.  To  have  proved  his  gen- 
eral laws  by  them,  would  have  prevented  him  from  claiming  any  support 
from  physical  science  in  his  endeavours  to  elevate  the  standing  of  the 
moral  sciences. 

1  The  reader  must  remember  that  we  have  to  do  here  with  the  popular 
notions  of  the  Newtonian  method,  such  as  the  people  were  getting  from 
text-books  and  from  men  who  used  it  to  strengthen  their  a  priori  method 
of  reasoning  on  social  affairs. 


330  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

prestige  which  the  reasoning  of  his  father  and  other  Ben- 
thamites had  enjoyed. 

As  soon  as  the  difference  between  the  old  a  'priori  and 
the  new  deductive  methods  of  reasoning  was  seen,  the 
public  began  to  distrust  economic  reasoning  because  its 
advocates  so  often  claimed  that  it  was  wholly  a  priori. 
Even  Mill  does  not  seem  to  have  had  a  clear  idea  of  the 
change  he  had  wrought.  After  the  publication  of  the 
Logic  he  permitted  the  publication  of  his  early  Essay  on 
the  Method  of  Political  Economy,  which  upheld  the  old 
views  in  an  unmodified  form.  In  the  Logic  he  assumed 
that  economic  reasoning  forms  an  exception  to  the  general 
method  of  the  social  sciences,  and  in  his  projected  science 
of  ethology  he  still  expected  to  employ  the  psychology 
and  the  methods  of  his  father.  It  is  no  wonder,  there- 
fore, that  for  forty  years  after  the  publication  of  the 
Logic,  a  priori  methods  were  associated  with  economics, 
and  that  that  science  had  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the  objec- 
tions to  such  reasoning. 

In  the  meantime  the  real  method  of  Ricardo,  put  in 
a  broader  form  and  illustrated  by  copious  facts  from  the 
new  inductive  sciences,  had  become  the  recognized  method 
of  physical  science.  In  this  way  Mill  hurt  the  cause  in 
which  he  was  interested ;  but  this  injury  was  more  than 
compensated  for  by  the  way  he  elevated  the  tone  of  the 
new  sciences  and  changed  the  popular  notion  of  their  worth 
and  their  character.  I  do  not  see  that  Mill  influenced 
scientific  men  either  in  their  methods  or  their  modes  of 
reasoning :  they  have  gone  their  own  way,  and  have  con- 
tinued to  use  poorer  methods  than  those  he  advocated. 
This  has  been  the  natural  result  of  a  subsequent  course  of 
events  which  neither  Mill  nor  any  one  else  could  have 
foreseen.  It  was  not  science,  but  men's  notions  of  science, 
that  he  altered.  A  new  ideal  of  proof  and  reasoning  was 
created,  which  affected  men  not  in  their  strictly  scientific 
studies,  but  in  their  general  opinions.     I  doubt  if  we  can 


THE  ECONOMISTS  331 

yet  say  what  the  true  method  of  discovery  is.  Thinkers 
and  workers  seem  to  reach  their  results  in  as  blind  a 
fashion  as  before.  Mill's  influence  is  greatest  in  fields  far 
removed  from  those  in  which  he  naturally  expected  to  be 
a  force.  Perhaps  his  influence  is  greatest  in  theology. 
The  old  dogmatism  received  a  death-blow  as  soon  as  the 
public  accepted  the  new  ideal  of  proof.  There  is  no  other 
field  in  whose  subsequent  development  Mill's  canons  have 
been  followed  more  carefully  or  with  better  results.  A 
man  who  had  no  theology  influenced  all  theologians.  Such 
are  the  results  of  thought  moving  in  a  curve. 

While  these  changes  in  Mill's  notions  of  the  method  of 
science  were  going  on,  a  disturbing  element  appeared  in 
the  form  of  Comte's  Philosophy.  Mill's  original  motive 
was  to  gain  prestige  for  social  studies  by  showing  that 
their  method  and  reasoning  were  the  same  as  those  of 
physical  science.  But  just  as  he  was  ready  to  write  the 
book  on  the  Logic  of  the  Moral  Sciences,  Comte  convinced 
him  that  the  method  of  the  social  sciences  was  not  what 
he  had  supposed  it  to  be.  He  was  also  made  to  see  the 
difference  between  social  science  and  political  economy. 
Mill  now  believed  that  the  general  social  science  —  soci- 
ology, as  Comte  called  it  —  was  to  use  the  historical  or 
universal  deductive  method,  and  its  laws  were  to  be  de- 
termined by  empirical  observations  based  on  history. 
From  the  operation  of  this  method  Mill  excluded  political 
economy,  where  the  a  priori  method  was  to  be  retained. 
After  this  change  in  Mill's  opinion  the  two  parts  of  the 
Logic  no  longer  hung  together,  and  if  the  analogies  de- 
rived from  the  older  physical  sciences  had  any  truth  in 
them,  they  counted  against  the  new  scheme. 

The  reader  must  keep  in  mind  that  in  Mill's  day  the 
body  of  social  science  lay  in  political  economy,  and  eco- 
nomic doctrines  gave  to  social  studies  all  the  prestige  they 
enjoyed.  When  Mill  admitted  that  the  economic  method 
was  out  of  harmony  with  the  general   method  of  social 


332  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

science,  he  not  only  damaged  this  prestige,  but  he  threw 
grave  doubts  on  the  method  and  the  results  of  the  econo- 
mists. But  worst  of  all  were  the  effects  of  the  emphasis 
he  placed  on  the  new  social  sciences,  —  ethology  and  soci- 
ology. Political  economy  was  at  least  in  existence,  and  em- 
braced many  widely  accepted  doctrines  ;  the  new  sciences 
were  yet  to  be  made,  and,  unfortunately  for  Mill's  reputa- 
tion as  a  prophet,  are  still  to  be  made.  After  a  couple  of 
years  of  vain  endeavour  to  establish  the  hoped-for  science 
of  ethology,  Mill  let  the  matter  drop,  and  no  one  has 
since  renewed  the  attempt.  Nor  has  sociology  fared  much 
better.  Until  recently  it  was  made  up  of  a  few  analogies 
derived  from  biology,  and  even  now  it  is  not  far  enough 
advanced  to  obtain  general  recognition,  nor  to  have  its 
method  well  denned.  In  spite  of  his  strong  bias  in  favour 
of  the  new  sciences,  Mill  was  forced  to  return  to  the 
study  of  political  economy,  and  subsequent  writers  have 
been  compelled  to  follow  his  example.  The  analogies  from 
physical  science  with  which  Mill  hoped  to  strengthen 
the  reasoning  in  social  science  have  thus  been  a  snare  and 
a  delusion,  doing  much  to  discredit  social  studies.  Even 
before  Mill's  death  the  new  school  of  scientists  using  his 
method  were  contending  that  the  social  sciences  were  not 
definite  enough  to  be  regarded  as  sciences.  This  scien- 
tific school  was  logical  in  the  contention  that  if  the  con- 
formity of  economic  reasoning  to  that  of  physical  science 
was  a  proof  of  its  validity,  the  lack  of  such  conformity 
was  evidence  of  its  unscientific  character.  The  fact  is 
that  Mill's  diversion  from  the  natural  trend  of  his  develop- 
ment by  Comte  so  weakened  the  credit  of  social  studies 
that  they  have  not  yet  recovered,  nor  can  they  regain 
their  standing  until  the  crude  analogies  derived  from 
physical  science  are  discarded.  The  bias  of  physical 
studies  hinders  every  one  who  goes  from  physical  to 
social  science.  The  method  of  social  science  must  be 
determined  from  its  own  problems. 


THE  ECONOMISTS  333 

If  we  turn  to  the  other  great  analogy  relied  on  by  Mill 
to  establish  the  position  of  the  social  sciences,  his  failure 
is  equally  apparent.  Like  Hume,  and  other  early  writers, 
he  regarded  the  doctrine  of  free  will  as  the  great  hin- 
drance to  the  progress  of  social  science.  If  the  reign  of 
law  was  completely  established  in  physical  matters,  the 
belief  that  it  prevailed  in  social  affairs  might  be  included. 
But  the  methods  of  proof  which  were  advocated  in  the 
body  of  the  Logic  would  not  establish  this  doctrine. 
Reasoning  from  particular  to  particular  may  give  proof 
of  a  general  law,  but  cannot  create  a  universal  law  ;  nor 
can  a  universal  law  be  established  by  the  concrete  deduc- 
tive method.  Therefore  Mill  was  compelled  to  resort  to 
a  method  of  proof,  which  he  admits  to  be  invalid  when 
used  to  prove  particular  propositions.1  The  only  proof 
he  offers  of  universal  causation  is  that  of  simple  enumera- 
tion. Perhaps  this  method  will  establish  the  doctrine  in 
physical  science,  but  it  cannot  be  accepted  as  a  universal 
law,  so  long  as  many  facts  in  social  science  have  not  been 
shown  to  follow  particular  laws. 

Mill  wanted  this  law  of  universal  causation  to  overcome 
the  objection  so  often  urged  that  social  facts  had  no  law. 
The  method  of  simple  enumeration  will  not  meet  this  ob- 
jection, because  the  facts  held  to  be  without  a  law  must 
be  enumerated  with  other  facts,  and  if  this  is  done  the 
enumeration  will  give  no  decisive  results.  I  do  not  say 
that  the  law  of  universal  causation  cannot  be  proved.  I 
mean  merely  that  simple  enumeration  will  not  prove  it 
so  long  as  many  facts  seem  to  follow  no  law.  Particular 
laws  must  be  established  throughout  social  science  before 
a  simple  enumeration  can  be  decisive  ;  and  while  objection 
is  made  to  these  particular  laws,  the  evidence  of  the  general 
laws  has  not  weight  enough  to  establish  them.  The  laws 
in  social  and  moral  science  must  be  proved  from  their  own 

1  See  Book  III,  Chap.  XXI. 


334  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

evidence  before  an  analogy  from  physical  science  has  any 
weight,  and  if  they  are  so  proved,  the  analogy  is  not 
needed.  It  is  therefore  a  waste  of  effort  to  seek  to  estab- 
lish the  validity  of  social  laws  by  physical  evidence.  These 
laws  must  justify  themselves  or  remain  open  to  objection 
and  ridicule.  Mill's  long-range  reasoning  has  not  helped 
the  social  sciences  a  particle.  On  the  contrary,  by  deceiv- 
ing investigators  through  weak  analogies,  he  has  frustrated 
their  efforts  to  advance  the  social  sciences,  and  has  to  this 
extent  lessened  the  confidence  that  men  had  in  their  possi- 
bilities. But  the  fact  is  that  no  general  law  of  causation 
is  needed  to  establish  the  position  of  the  social  sciences. 
If  we  confine  ourselves  to  those  actual  laws  that  have  been 
discovered,  and  have  an  acknowledged  validity,  they  will 
all  be  found  to  come  under  one  head.  Men  must  have 
pleasure  and  avoid  pain  in  order  to  live.  To  secure 
pleasure  they  must  have  food,  and  must  conform  to  the 
conditions  of  its  production.  Pain  is  so  largely  the  effect 
of  production  that  other  causes  can  be  overlooked,  and  to 
avoid  pain  men  must  cooperate  in  production  in  ways 
that  involve  division  of  labour.  To  say  that  a  man  has 
no  freedom  because  he  must  seek  pleasure  and  avoid  pain, 
is  as  loose  reasoning  as  to  say  that  he  is  not  free  because 
he  falls  when  he  loses  his  balance.  The  need  of  food 
limits  man's  freedom,  just  as  the  law  of  gravitation  pre- 
vents him  from  flying.  But  neither  fact  proves  any 
universal  law  of  causation.  Though  the  laws  of  pleasure 
and  pain  have  been  put  forward  as  the  basis  of  moral  law, 
they  are  not  of  a  moral  nature  ;  they  are  simply  the  law 
of  social  causation.  The  field  of  pleasure  and  pain  is  the 
field  of  the  social  sciences,  or  at  least  of  all  of  which  we 
know  anything.  Until  this  field  is  thoroughly  explored, 
and  its  limits  defined,  the  larger  problem  of  the  human 
will  must  remain  unsolved.  Mere  analogies  have  no 
weight  in  unexplored  regions. 

Mill  soon  put  his  theories  of  the  social  sciences  to  the 


THE   ECONOMISTS  335 

test,  and  in  his  later  writings  we  see  how  they  work. 
The  scheme  to  create  a  science  of  character  was  abandoned, 
and  no  work  along  the  lines  suggested  by  Comte  was  ever 
attempted.  For  Mill,  at  least,  his  Logic  was  a  failure  in 
so  far  as  it  claimed  to  be  a  method  of  discovery  fitted  for 
the  social  sciences.  It  is  interesting,  however,  to  examine 
his  Political  Economy  and  see  what  methods  of  proof  he 
used  in  this  great  work.  In  it,  what  I  have  called  the 
shell  of  his  thought  is  broken  through.  The  Logic  had 
excluded  problems  involving  the  human  will.  Physical 
causation  was  made  supreme,  and  a  simple  enumeration  of 
facts  was  deemed  sufficient  to  establish  the  reign  of  physi- 
cal forces.  If  this  thought  were  carried  over  into  social 
science,  as  doubtless  Mill  intended  to  do  in  his  unwritten 
Ethology,  physical  laws  would  also  be  supreme  in  that 
realm.  Instead  of  doing  this,  he  draws  a  distinction 
between  the  laws  of  production  and  those  of  distribution. 
The  laws  of  production,  he  tells  us,1  partake  of  the  char- 
acter of  physical  truths.  There  is  nothing  optional  or 
arbitrary  about  them.  But  the  distribution  of  wealth 
is  a  matter  of  human  institutions,  depending  upon  the 
opinions  and  feelings  of  men  ;  so  laws  of  distribution  are 
not  "real  laws  of  nature,"  for  they  "depend  on  human 
will."2 

Mill  endeavours  to  reconcile  this  new  opinion  with  his 
former  position  by  saying  that  the  opinions  and  feelings 
of  men  are  not  matters  of  chance,  and  that  they  belong  to 
a  larger  and  more  difficult  subject.  But  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  this  more  difficult  subject  —  the  science 
of  character  —  Mill  had  just  given  up  as  hopeless ;  and 
until  he  or  some  one  else  shows  what  are  the  laws  of 
character,  the  empirical  fact  remains  that  the  actions  of 
men  are,  to  use  his  own  words,  "optional "  and  "arbitrary" 
in  matters  of  distribution,  and  that  human  institutions  are 

1  See  the  opening  of  the  first  chapter  on  "  Distribution." 

2  See  Autobiography,  p.  246. 


336  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

outside  the  realm  of  physical  law.  When  Mill  made  a 
distinction  between  the  theories  of  production  and  dis- 
tribution, he  definitely  broke  with  the  theory  he  had 
advocated  in  the  Logic.  He  would  not  have  made  such 
a  distinction  unless  moved  by  an  influence  that  had  not 
been  felt  when  the  Logic  was  written.  It  was  Mrs. 
Taylor,  subsequently  Mrs.  Mill,  who  changed  his  view  of 
the  laws  of  distribution,  inducing  him  to  limit  the  opera- 
tion of  physical  laws  to  the  realm  of  production.  He  was 
fond  of  emphasizing  the  fact  that  the  "  human  element " 
in  his  writings  came  from  her,  and  that  his  own  contri- 
butions were  limited  to  the  abstract  and  purely  scientific 
parts.1  This  means  that  up  to  the  time  he  came  under 
her  influence,  he  had  looked  merely  on  the  physical  causes 
of  social  phenomena  :  a  view  which  his  education  created 
and  his  early  associations  tended  to  strengthen.  Another 
concept  of  society  and  of  social  law  appeared  for  the 
first  time  in  the  Political  Economy.  Inspired  by  the  hope 
of  social  improvement,  he  deserted  the  plan  laid  down 
in  the  Logic  and  adopted  a  method  of  reasoning  which 
did  not  conform  to  any  of  the  models  he  discussed. 

This  new  plan  can  be  seen  by  contrasting  the  reasoning 
on  production  with  that  on  distribution.  In  the  former 
he  brings  out  clearly  the  influence  of  physical  facts  and 
the  conditions  which  they  impose  on  the  production  of 
wealth.  But  even  here  he  is  not  free  from  the  new  in- 
fluence that  is  acting  upon  him.  In  summing  up  the 
influences  which  physical  causes  exert  on  production,  he 
admits  that  there  is  an  antagonistic  principle  in  the  prog- 
ress of  civilization  which,  if  it  cannot  counteract  the 
dominant  physical  forces,  can  at  least  modify  and  delay 
the  results  they  would  otherwise  produce.  The  operation 
of  pure  physical  laws  thus  not  being  admitted  in  pro- 
duction are  readily  cast  aside  altogether  in  distribution, 

1  Autobiography ,  p.  247. 


THE  ECONOMISTS  337 

and  in  their  place  are  substituted  some  social  forces  well 
worthy  of  study. 

Mill's  Political  Economy  can  be  readily  divided  into  two 
parts.  His  purpose  in  writing  it  was  to  reproduce  and 
strengthen  the  body  of  economic  doctrine  associated  with 
the  name  of  Ricardo  ;  and  also  to  restate  the  doctrines 
of  Adam  Smith,  harmonizing  them  with  the  doctrines  of 
Ricardo.  The  inductive  portion  of  the  work  is  taken 
mainly  from  Adam  Smith,  while  the  deductive  comes  from 
Ricardo.  In  restating  these  writers,  Mill  is  simply  an 
editor  anxious  to  put  their  doctrines  in  the  best  light. 
The  views  are  their  views,  and  the  method  is  their 
method.  To  get  at  his  own  contributions  and  method, 
we  must  strike  out  all  the  portions  of  his  Political  Econ- 
omy which  reproduce  the  ideas  of  Smith  and  Ricardo. 
When  this  is  done,  Mill's  contributions  come  under  such 
heads  as  the  influence  of  civilization,  communal  and  pri- 
vate property,  socialism,  cooperation,  inheritance,  bequest, 
peasant  proprietors,  the  unearned  increment,  the  stationary 
state  of  society,  and  the  future  of  the  labouring  classes. 

The  method  Mill  used  in  explaining  these  doctrines  of 
his  own  stands  in  marked  contrast  to  the  methods  of 
Smith  and  Ricardo.  Mill's  own  doctrine  can  scarcely 
be  said  to  be  proved  if  the  proof  is  to  be  judged  by  the 
canons  of  his  Logic.  So  plain  is  this  failure  that  many 
writers  claiming  to  be  Mill's  disciples  have  left  these 
parts  out  of  their  works,  thus  narrowing  the  science  to 
the  physical  laws  and  the  environmental  conditions  upon 
which  earlier  writers  based  their  reasoning.  Some  have 
even  gone  so  far  as  to  cut  out  of  Mill's  Political  Economy 
the  parts  they  dislike,  and  to  fill  up  the  vacant  space  with 
reasoning  and  topics  more  to  their  fancy.  There  has 
thus  arisen  a  reactionary  school  that  would  confine  the 
science  to  what  it  was  before  Mill's  day,  and  a  progres- 
sive school  that  would  enlarge  the  new  elements  and  ex- 
tend the  method  of  presentation  to  other  topics.     It  is 


338  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

plain  that  Mill  introduced  a  new  type  of  reasoning  which, 
whether  good  or  bad,  has  ever  since  its  introduction  be- 
come increasingly  popular,  and  on  this  ground,  if  on  no 
other,  it  deserves  an  examination. 

The  chapter  on  "  Property  "  is  the  best  illustration  of  the 
new  method,  because  it  is  so  placed  as  to  heighten  the 
effect  the  method  produces.  This  chapter  stands  imme- 
diately after  a  long,  close  argument  concerning  the  theo- 
ries of  production.  Only  a  trained  student  accustomed 
to  close  reasoning  can  follow  that  discussion,  especially  in 
the  last  few  chapters.  The  ordinary  reader  reaches  the 
end  of  the  book  on  "  Production  "  tired  and  somewhat  con- 
fused as  to  the  bearing  of  what  he  has  read.  When  he 
turns  to  the  chapter  on  "  Property,"  he  experiences  a  sudden 
feeling  of  relief.  The  close  reasoning  of  the  earlier  chap- 
ters disappears,  and  in  its  place  there  comes  a  clear,  vivid 
statement  of  new  concepts.  The  new  ideas  are  not  so 
much  proved  as  clearly  presented.  One  sees  a  new  type 
of  society  and  new  social  institutions,  and  is  delighted 
with  ideals  which  he  had  never  thought  of  before,  and  an 
effect  is  produced  that  would  not  have  been  felt  had  the 
reader  not  been  wearied  by  the  dry,  abstract  chapters  that 
preceded.  The  abstract  study  has  put  him  in  a  mood  to 
appreciate  the  new  ideals.  The  average  person  thinks  of 
nothing  but  the  concrete  environment  which  has  to  be 
analyzed  into  its  elements  before  social  ideals  are  created. 
The  reasoning  may  not  have  been  convincing,  but  it  has 
given  him  a  new  power  which,  when  applied  to  the  new 
ideals,  enables  him  to  appreciate  them.  So  the  main  result 
of  abstract  economic  reasoning  is  to  increase  the  power 
of  analysis  which  is  utilized  in  forming  social  ideals. 
The  union  of  close  abstract  reasoning  with  a  clear  pre- 
sentation of  ideals  invests  the  reasoning  with  the  lucid- 
ity of  the  ideals,  and  the  ideals  with  the  plausibility  of 
the  reasoning.  The  reader  imputes  to  the  one  what  he 
gets  from  the  other.    Convinced  by  reasoning  that  he  per- 


THE  ECONOMISTS  339 

haps  does  not  quite  understand,  he  regards  the  evidence  of 
the  new  ideals  as  convincing,  although  in  reality  the  ideals 
have  been  only  clearly  presented. 

Mill's  contributions  to  political  economy  are  not  mere 
reasoned  products,  but  are  the  creation  of  certain  social 
ideals  so  blended  with  the  older  economic  reasoning  as  to 
become  indistinguishable.  Political  economy,  thus  raised 
above  the  level  of  a  mere  study  of  environmental  facts, 
has  become  a  concrete  form  of  idealism.  The  forcible 
books  since  Mill's  time  have  followed  his  example,  and 
strengthened  the  idealistic  tendencies  he  stimulated.  Such 
books  unite  reasoning  and  ideals  as  he  did.  Their  initial 
chapters  are  drills  in  close  reasoning,  followed  by  a 
clear  presentation  of  the  ideals  the  writer  wishes  to  at- 
tain. Henry  George's  Progress  and  Poverty,  and  Karl 
Marx's  Capital,  use  Mill's  plan,  and  a  host  of  other 
books  are  written  in  the  same  fashion.  The  reasoning  is 
not  always  of  the  same  character,  but  it  serves  the  same 
purpose  by  creating  a  state  of  mind  in  which  ideals  can 
be  appreciated.  Economic  reasoning  has  proved  to  be  the 
best  drill  in  abstract  reasoning  that  has  been  devised,  and 
has,  therefore,  contributed  more  to  the  growth  of  idealism 
than  any  other  discipline. 

There  are  many  justifications  on  logical  grounds  for 
this  new  form  of  reasoning.  A  disposition  to  believe  is 
formed  by  creating  a  pleasurable  ideal,  and  this  disposi- 
tion is  strengthened  by  inductive  proofs  showing  the  har- 
mony of  the  ideal  with  the  actual  conditions  of  society. 
The  first  step  is  an  analysis  instead  of  an  induction.  The 
second  step  by  which  the  ideal  is  formed  corresponds  to 
the  hypothesis  necessary  in  all  deductions.  The  final 
step  is  a  verification,  as  in  the  deductive  method.  The 
form  of  the  thought  is  not  radically  different  from  that 
which  Mill  advocated  in  his  Logic.  But  the  new  argu- 
ment is  more  deductive  because  it  assumes  that  a  pleas- 
urable ideal  is  in   harmony  with  social  tendencies,  and 


340  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

hence  capable  of  realization.  There  is  much  to  be  said  in 
favour  of  this  proposition.  Pleasure  is  an  index  of  ad- 
justment to  the  environment ;  pain,  of  a  lack  of  adjust- 
ment. If  an  ideal  creates  pleasure  and  a  tendency  toward 
its  realization,  the  persons  moved  by  it  will  be  eliminated 
from  society  if  the  ideal  is  out  of  harmony  with  facts, 
but  will  be  aided  if  it  does  accord  with  them.  The 
power  to  appreciate  and  to  get  pleasure  out  of  an  ideal, 
shows  that  it  agrees  with  the  fundamental  psychic  tenden- 
cies of  the  individual,  and  in  so  far  as  these  are  in  harmony 
with  the  environment  his  appreciation  affords  proof  that 
the  ideal  accords  with  the  ultimate  environmental  condi- 
tions by  which  his  psychic  tendencies  were  created.  A 
perfectly  adjusted  being  must  get  pleasure  out  of  true 
relations,  and  be  pained  by  false  ones.  In  such  a  being 
the  pleasure  of  perception  is  a  test  of  truth.  To  put  this 
in  theological  language,  that  which  pleases  God  is  always 
true,  good,  and  beneficial.  Heaven  is  not  a  place  for 
argument.  A  well-known  doctrine  in  natural  theology 
teaches  that  God  wills  the  happiness  of  men.  The  con- 
verse of  this  proposition  is  that  whatever  gives  per- 
manent happiness  to  men  is  the  will  of  God,  and  hence 
conforms  to  the  true  relations  that  please  God  and  are 
maintained  by  Him. 

Both  theological  and  utilitarian  arguments  tend  to 
confirm  the  claim  that  the  permanently  pleasurable  and 
the  perfectly  true  harmonize.  The  inductive  premise 
from  which  Mill's  concrete  deductive  method  starts  is 
derived  directly  from  the  facts  of  past  experience.  The 
corresponding  premise  in  the  new  concrete  ideal  method 
is  derived  from  human  nature ;  that  is,  from  the  psychic 
qualities  which  past  experience  has  created.  Human 
nature  must  correspond  to  the  experience  that  formed 
it.  In  the  degree,  then,  that  men  are  adjusted  to  the 
environment,  is  the  power  to  get  pleasure  from  an  ideal 
a  proof   of   that   ideal's   correctness.     A  perfect  mental 


THE  ECONOMISTS  341 

mechanism  would  not  allow  ideas  to  be  held  apart  that 
are  united  in  nature,  nor  those  to  be  united  that  should 
be  apart. 

Whatever  may  be  the  value  of  the  concrete  ideal 
method  of  reasoning  in  social  affairs,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  it  was  introduced  by  Mill,  and  that  it  has 
remained  the  favourite  method  of  social  reasoning.  We 
cannot  discuss  even  the  present  monetary  difficulties  of 
the  world  without  raising  silver  and  gold  into  social 
ideals,  and  testing  the  value  of  monetary  reforms  by 
correspondence  between  facts  and  these  ideals.  Nor  is 
there  any  doubt  that  Mill  acquired  this  method  under 
the  influence  of  his  wife.  His  native  bent,  or  at  least 
the  bent  given  him  by  his  education,  was  for  abstract 
reasoning.  Mrs.  Mill,  on  the  other  hand,  had  a  strong 
tendency  to  reason  concretely,  and  possessed  a  vivid 
imagination,  by  which  concrete  facts  were  elevated  into 
ideals.  "Her  mind,"  Mill  tells  us,  "invested  all  ideas 
in  a  concrete  shape,  and  formed  to  itself  a  conception 
of  how  they  would  actually  work."  This  is  exactly  that 
method  of  idealization  which  I  have  described.  He  ad- 
mits his  own  weakness  in  this  respect  by  saying  that 
"  those  parts  of  my  writings,  and  especially  of  the 
Political  Economy,  which  contemplate  possibilities  in  the 
future  as  such,  when  affirmed  by  the  socialists,  have  in 
general  been  fiercely  denied  by  political  economists, 
would,  but  for  her,  have  been  absent,  or  the  suggestions 
would  have  been  made  much  more  timidly  and  in  a 
more  qualified  form."1 

Mill  was  right  in  his  estimate  of  his  wife's  abilities 
and  of  her  influence  on  him.  Any  opposite  judgment 
is  based  on  the  thought  that  Mill's  services  were  mainly 
in  abstract  science.  In  this  field,  however,  he  largely 
reproduced  the   ideas   of   others ;    and    though    he   did 

1  Autobiography,  p.  248. 


342  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

this  work  well,  it  does  not  account  for  his  place  in 
English  thought.  Most  of  his  abstract  reasoning  has 
long  since  gone  to  pieces.  It  is  the  "human  element," 
which  he  says  came  from  his  wife,  and  which  certainly 
was  absent  in  his  earlier  writings,  that  has  made  the 
revolution  in  thought  associated  with  his  name.  He 
ended  his  Logic  intent  on  completing  the  work  of  his 
father  and  of  Comte.  The  new  influence,  however,  gave 
him  a  relish  for  ideals,  and  forced  him  so  to  modify  his 
reasoning  as  to  give  them  a  place.  The  concreteness 
of  woman's  thought  was  thus  united  with  the  abstract- 
ness  natural  to  men,  and  a  new  method  of  reasoning 
created  which  united  both  methods.  Not  only  in  the 
Political  Economy,  but  also  in  his  works  on  Liberty, 
Representative  Government,  and  The  Subjection  of  Women, 
his  power  lay  in  the  ideals  he  created  and  in  their  har- 
mony with  experience.  Only  after  her  death  did  he 
fall  back  into  his  natural  or  earlier  state  of  mind  and 
write  The  Examination  of  the  Philosophy  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton. 

This  concrete  ideal  method  of  reasoning  in  social  sci- 
ence is  the  same  in  essence  as  that  which  Calvinists  were 
using  in  religion,  and  was  due  to  the  same  causes.  Cal- 
vinistic  arguments  are  valuable,  not  for  their  conclusions, 
which  are  often  bad,  but  for  the  abstractions,  which  ad- 
mit of  idealization.  The  bold,  clear  ideals  of  God  and 
His  "plan"  could  not  be  formed  or  appreciated  by  per- 
sons who  thought  only  of  their  concrete  surroundings. 
The  abstractions  of  theology  thus  pave  the  way  for  re- 
ligious ideals.  Woman's  influence  has  made  these  ideals 
concrete  and  given  the  tone  to  Calvinistic  doctrines. 
Manly  men  never  like  Calvinism.  It  is  the  creed  of 
women  and  those  they  influence.  Mrs.  Mill  was  fortu- 
nate in  being  the  first  womanly  woman  who  turned  her 
attention  to  social  science.  In  doing  so  she  created  in 
it  just   those   changes    that    Scotch   theology   has   gone 


THE  ECONOMISTS  343 

through,  and  gave  to  social  science  the  tone  and  con- 
creteness  that  Calvinism  has  given  to  religion.  Social 
science  was  thus  taken  out  of  the  group  of  abstract  and 
environmental  sciences  in  which  Mill  hoped  to  place  it, 
and  put  into  the  group  with  theology,  English  ideals  of 
liberty,  and  Rousseau's  political  principles.  A  method 
that  seemed  barren  of  results  when  tried  in  isolated 
cases,  proved  to  be  the  only  method  of  increasing  social 
knowledge  and  of  testing  the  validity  of  social  reforms. 

Thus  far  this  chapter  has  been  devoted  to  the  upward 
curve  of  thought  from  the  new  economic  basis.  I  shall 
now  turn  to  the  downward  curve  from  theory  and  phi- 
losophy to  fact.  Where  shall  we  find  a  philosopher 
strongly  moved  by  the  inherited  instincts  of  the  race, 
who  seeks  in  the  new  material  of  the  age  an  outward 
expression  of  the  ideas  that  inspire  him  ?  Naturally  we 
should  expect  to  find  such  a  man  among  the  philosophical 
Utopists  of  whom  mention  has  been  made  ;  but  they  were 
too  reactionary  and  too  much  opposed  to  the  drift  of  events 
to  make  the  inductive  studies  needed  to  discover  how  the 
things  they  revered  were  embodied  in  the  tendencies  of  the 
time.  The  development  of  the  downward  curve  of  thought 
was  thus  delayed  until  it  was  too  late  for  it  to  exert  an 
influence  on  the  upward  curve  of  thought.  Therefore, 
the  two  movements  were  isolated  and  apparently  hostile. 
The  conciliation  that  came  later  does  not  belong  to  the 
period  under  discussion. 

Although  the  name  of  Darwin  is  associated  with  this 
downward  curve,  on  the  face  of  things  Darwinism  seems 
to  be  an  upward  movement.  In  the  importance  of  his 
work  Darwin  occupies  a  position  similar  to  Adam  Smith, 
who  was  at  once  the  last  of  the  moralists  and  the  first  of 
the  economists.  Smith's  theories  are  transformed  moral 
doctrines,  while  his  inductive  facts  are  the  beginning  of 
a  new  type  of  studies.     He  thus  ends  one  period  and  be- 


344  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

gins  another.  In  the  same  way  Darwin  is  the  last  of  the 
economists  and  the  first  of  a  new  school  of  biologists. 
He  is  deductive  as  an  economist,  and  inductive  as  a 
biologist.  Like  Smith,  he  completes  one  period  of  thought 
and  opens  another. 

To  show  that  Darwin  was  an  economist,  we  must  divide 
his  doctrine  into  two  parts  as  found  in  his  first  essay.1 
The  economy  of  food  and  its  effects  on  organisms  are 
strictly  economic  phenomena,  and  the  doctrines  deduced 
from  them  are  legitimately  a  part  of  economic  theory. 
Every  animal  has  its  economy  in  so  far  as  its  existence 
depends  upon  its  food,  and  these  economies,  when  gener- 
alized, become  the  elements  out  of  which  economic  theory 
is  created.  The  mutability  of  species,  however,  and  the 
conception  of  common  ancestors  are  biologic  and  induc- 
tive. The  modification  of  species  might  be  predicted 
from  the  limitations  of  the  food  supply  or  changes  in  the 
food,  but  such  conditions  could  not  show  that  two  inde- 
pendent species  were  originally  one.  Darwin  found  de- 
ductively that  peculiarities  in  the  food  supply  caused 
variations  ;  but  to  complete  his  theory  he  was  compelled 
inductively  to  show  how  present  facts  and  the  history  of 
creation  indicated  that  the  various  species  had  common 
ancestors.  The  first  part  of  his  work  was  easily  done,  but 
the  second  demanded  years  of  investigation  and  a  multi- 
tude of  facts.  When  the  result  was  published,  it  excited 
great  opposition  and  compelled  the  biologists  to  work  for 
years  to  establish  its  truth.  Naturally,  therefore,  this 
biological  part  of  the  investigation  grew  in  importance  at 

1  In  Darwin's  original  sketch,  written  in  1844,  the  first  part  treats  of 
"variation  of  organic  beings  under  domestication  and  in  their  natural 
state  "  ;  in  the  second  part  he  treats  of  "  the  evidence  favourable  and 
opposed  to  the  view  that  species  are  naturally  formed  races  descended 
from  common  stocks."  Though  these  two  parts  are  blended  in  his  Origin 
of  Species,  the  separation  in  the  earlier  sketch  shows  that  they  once 
stood  apart  in  his  mind,  depending  on  different  facts  and  conditions. 
(See  Life  of  Darwin,  Vol.  II,  p.  12.) 


THE  ECONOMISTS  345 

the  expense  of  the  economic.  There  is  thus  given  to 
Darwinism  a  seemingly  inductive  character  that  it  does 
not  really  possess. 

To  bring  this  out  clearly,  I  shall  restate  the  first  part 
of  Darwin's  argument,  connecting  it  with  the  economic 
theories  to  which  it  belongs.  It  is  based  upon  four  dis- 
tinct propositions : 

1st.   The  limitations  of  the  food  supply. 

2d.    The  rapid  increase  of  each  species. 

3d.   The  variability  of  descendants. 

4th.    Evolution  through  the  pressure  of  numbers. 

The  first  two  propositions  come  directly  from  Malthus, 
and  show  the  close  connection  of  Darwinism  with  the 
problems  Malthus  raised.  The  third  was  also  a  well- 
established  economic  principle,  for  proof  of  which  Dar- 
win depended  on  the  economic  literature  arising  from 
the  attempts  to  improve  cultivated  domestic  plants  and 
breeds  of  stock.  Agricultural  experiments  of  the  pre- 
ceding century  furnished  Darwin  with  the  necessary 
proof  of  this  important  principle.  Experiment  had  also 
shown  that  the  steady  development  of  breeds  was  possible, 
but  this  fact  had  not  been  properly  used  in  the  discussion 
of  human  progress.  Economists  and  other  students  of 
social  affairs  had  been  blinded  by  their  belief  in  Hart- 
leian  psychology,  and  misled  by  their  study  of  ancient 
history.  The  doctrine  that  all  knowledge  is  due  to  an 
association  of  ideas  caused  them  to  assume  that  the  devel- 
opment of  each  individual  came  from  his  sense  impres- 
sions, and  was  not  dependent  on  past  conditions  or 
heredity.  The  decay  of  nations  in  ancient  history  seemed 
to  sanction  the  belief  that  men  were  degenerated  by  civili- 
zation, and  this  belief  made  students  blind  to  the  steady 
progress  of  modern  nations.  A  belief  in  progress  and 
improvement  was,  however,  common  among  the  natural 
theologians,  and  was  the  main  cause  of  their  opposition 
to  the  Malthusian  theory. 


346  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

At  least  one  of  these  natural  theologians  saw  the  bear- 
ing of  the  principle  of  population  on  progress,  and  called 
it  the  main  pillar  of  civilization.1  He  saw  that  the  strug- 
gle for  food  was  the  cause  of  the  upward  tendencies  in 
mankind.  "  The  order  of  things,"  he  says,  "  in  which  the 
human  race  arrives  at  the  highest  degree  of  improve- 
ment, and  has  the  widest  scope  for  moral  and  intellectual 
perfection,  is  inevitably,  and  with  some  trifling  exceptions, 
universally  established  by  the  operation  of  a  single  prin- 
ciple and  the  instinctive  force  of  a  single  natural  desire."2 
"  The  operation  of  this  principle  (of  population),  filling 
the  world  with  competitors  for  support,  enforces  labour 
and  encourages  industry  by  the  advantages  it  gives  to 
the  industrious  at  the  expense  of  the  indolent  and 
extravagant."  3 

When  Darwin  began  his  work,  the  deductive  arguments 
based  on  the  limitations  of  the  food  supply  were  familiar, 
and  inductive  evidence  was  at  hand  to  support  them.  The 
need  of  the  time  was  not  for  new  arguments  or  more 
proof,  but  for  a  bold  generalization  which  would  compre- 
hend all  the  concrete  propositions  and  extend  their  ap- 
plication to  new  fields.  Where  others  failed,  Darwin 
succeeded,  not  because  he  was  a  better  observer,  but 
because  he  was  free  from  presuppositions  which  would 
narrow  the  scope  of  his  theorizing.  Not  being  of  the 
schooled  economists,  he  could  use  their  facts  and  argu- 
ments without  the  limitations  created  by  economic  tradi- 
tions. There  is  a  mythical  Darwin  as  well  as  a  mythical 
Ricardo.  Ricardo  was  naturally  inductive,  a  good  ob- 
server, and  familiar  with  the  economic  facts  of  his  day ; 
but   aided   partly  by   circumstances,  and  partly  by   the 

1  Summer's  Becords  of  Creation,  1816.  In  a  supplement  to  his  fifth 
edition  Malthus  called  attention  to  this  work,  and  accepted  the  theory  of 
progress  it  outlines. 

2  Vol.  II,  p.  27. 
8  Vol.  II,  p.  172. 


THE  ECONOMISTS  347 

mental  traits  of  his  followers,  his  inductions  were  quickly 
changed  into  bold  deductions.  The  inductions  on  which 
these  theories  were  based  being  soon  lost  sight  of,  Ricardo 
was  set  up  as  a  model  deductive  reasoner.  In  the  case  of 
Darwin  the  opposite  happened.  His  deductions  based  on 
the  work  of  the  economists  came  first,  but  years  of  induc- 
tive work  was  needed  to  establish  the  doctrine  of  common 
ancestors.  Inductive  thinkers  naturally  rallied  to  his  aid. 
The  new  inductive  facts  were  so  extensive,  and  so  ab- 
sorbed the  attention  of  biologists,  that  the  earlier  deduc- 
tions of  Darwin  were  neglected,  and  he  is  thought  of 
mainly  for  his  inductive  work.  I  am  not  criticising  the 
view  of  the  master  that  the  disciples  in  either  of  these 
cases  have  taken.  There  is  much  to  justify  their  position ; 
but  their  example  shows  how  easy  it  is  for  the  work  of  a 
great  thinker  to  be  misunderstood,  even  by  those  who 
should  best  understand  it. 

In  the  case  of  Darwin  this  wrong  interpretation  is 
partly  justified  by  the  effects  of  the  long  delay  that  took 
place  between  the  perception  of  the  new  truth  and  its 
presentation  to  the  public.  It  is  much  harder  to  trace 
the  order  and  connection  of  a  writer's  ideas  if  he  waits 
twenty  years  before  publishing  them.  Had  Malthus 
thought  over  his  doctrine  for  a  like  period  before  giving 
it  to  the  public,  probably  we  should  never  have  known 
what  causes  excited  his  thinking.  The  later  editions  of 
his  Principles  of  Population  became  increasingly  induc- 
tive, and  showed  less  connection  with  the  Utopian  ideals 
that  stimulated  his  first  thought.  If  Darwin  had  written 
out  his  theory  in  the  first  flush  of  its  perception,  it  would 
probably  have  been  as  deductive  as  the  first  edition  of 
Malthus.  That  Darwin  was  a  bold  theorizer  is  shown  by 
the  fact  that  he  thought  out  his  theory  of  the  origin  of 
coral  reefs  before  he  saw  one,  and  his  early  love  of 
Paley's  books  reveals  the  same  characteristic.  His  son 
also  says,  "  It  was  as  though  he  were  charged  with  theo- 


348  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

rizing  power,  ready  to  flow  into  any  channel  on  the  slight- 
est disturbance,  so  that  no  fact,  however  small,  could  avoid 
realizing  a  stream  of  theory,  and  thus  the  fact  became 
magnified  into  importance." 1  It  is  facts  like  these  that 
show  that  he  was  a  philosopher  making  a  downward 
curve  in  national  thought,  and  not  an  observer  on  an 
upward  curve.  He  was  an  economist,  because  his  in- 
stincts were  strongly  racial,  and  in  his  time  economic 
ideals  and  methods  dominated  English  thought.  Even 
his  travels  did  not  modify  his  thoroughly  national  spirit. 
His  foreign  facts  were  the  outcome  of  his  own  experience, 
and  not  clippings  from  the  reports  of  other  travellers. 
He  enlarged  English  experience  without  breaking  from 
the  insular  habits  of  thought  peculiar  to  Englishmen.  In 
this  he  differs  from  the  later  generation  of  biologists,  who 
became  cosmopolitan  in  their  point  of  view  and  in  their 
sympathies.  He  could  see  a  foreign  fact  as  if  it  were  a 
part  of  English  experience.  They  judged  English  facts 
on  the  basis  of  their  foreign  experience,  thus  making  the 
far  off  the  interpreter  of  the  near  at  hand. 

The  change  which  the  biologic  habits  of  thought  have 
introduced  can  be  made  plain  by  contrasting  these  habits 
of  thought  with  those  of  the  economists.  Economic  theo- 
rists, viewing  foreign  events  by  home  standards,  looked 
on  foreigners  as  if  they  were  Englishmen,  and  expected 
the  introduction  of  English  institutions,  ideas,  and  methods 
to  cure  foreign  evils.  It  never  occurred  to  them  that 
what  had  been  successful  in  England  might  fail  elsewhere. 
The  opposite  defect  shows  itself  in  the  reasoning  of  Dar- 
win's successors.  The  doctrine  of  common  ancestors 
turned  their  attention  to  foreign  facts  and  to  primitive 
conditions.  The  habit  was  acquired  of  judging  the  pres- 
ent and  the  English  by  distant  facts  and  ancient  records. 
The  natural  result  of  the  acceptance  of  the  doctrine  of 

1  Life,  Vol.  I,  p.  179. 


THE  ECONOMISTS  349 

evolution  and  the  emphasis  of  common  origins  was  the 
underestimation  and  neglect  of  English  facts  and  experi- 
ence. The  economists  looked  on  foreigners  as  English- 
men, because  they  knew  little  of  the  former  and  much  of 
the  latter ;  so  the  biologists  were  inclined  to  think  of  men 
as  animals,  because  they  studied  animals  more  than  men. 
In  thinking  of  apes  as  the  ancestors  of  man,  the  biologists 
were  prone  to  overlook  the  ways  in  which  the  descendants 
differ  from  their  supposed  ancestors.  The  bias  of  the 
economists  came  from  an  overestimation  of  the  near  at 
hand ;  that  of  the  biologists  came  from  a  like  overestima- 
tion of  the  far  off.  Both  schools  have  thus  fallen  into 
errors  which  the  future  must  rectify. 

While  these  changes  were  f  oreignizing  science,  an  oppo- 
site movement  was  nationalizing  literature  and  art.  The 
causes  that  were  making  English  poetry  insular,  patriotic, 
and  national  had  been  long  in  operation,  but  they  were 
hampered  by  the  undue  emphasis  which  English  education 
gave  to  foreign  civilizations.  Nations  whose  development 
is  slow  and  regular  have  immense  advantages  in  the  re- 
finements of  civilization  over  nations  like  England  that 
pass  suddenly  from  barbarism  to  social  security  and  pros- 
perity. It  was  natural  and  necessary  that  refinements  like 
literature  and  art  should  be  imported  from  countries  in 
advance  of  England.  It  is  difficult  at  best  to  import 
manners  and  modes  of  thought;  but  when  they  are  opposed 
to  the  trend  of  internal  progress,  a  strong  opposition  is 
met  from  native  purists.  Unfortunately,  the  ideals  of 
literature  were  not  in  harmony  with  native  English  ten- 
dencies. The  result  was  that  Classicism  never  took  root 
in  England  except  among  those  who  were  under  foreign 
influences  or  were  sensually  inclined.  Classicism  was  the 
interest  of  a  class  whose  members  separated  themselves 
from  the  tendencies  of  the  popular  national  movements. 

The  opposition  of  the  Puritans  to  art  and  literature  was 


350  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

a  necessary  consequence  of  their  tenacious  adherence  to 
English  ways  and  ideals.  Had  the  art  and  literature  of 
that  day  been  the  outgrowth  of  home  conditions,  a  long 
and  fruitless  struggle  might  have  been  avoided.  The 
Puritans  were  right  in  their  distrust  of  the  particular 
forms  of  art  then  received,  although  wrong  in  assuming 
that  these  forms  were  all  that  were  possible  to  art.  Home 
instincts  revolt  against  the  sensual  communal  pleasures, 
and  a  steady,  economic  life  is  opposed  to  that  which  we 
now  call  Bohemian.  A  people  whose  existence  and  pros- 
perity depend  upon  the  ceaseless  activity  of  its  men  and 
women,  cannot  accept  the  social  ideals  of  nations  whose 
main   end  is  rest  and  quiet. 

The  ideals  of  the  classicists  were  imported  from  hot 
countries  where  activity  is  disagreeable  ;  the  labour  is  done 
by  slaves  or  by  those  who  do  not  participate  in  the  bene- 
fits of  progress.  The  ideas  were  also  those  of  nations 
with  a  clear  climate  where  an  inactive  life  was  agreeable. 
Very  little  clothing  and  shelter  were  needed,  and  the 
bounties  of  nature  made  the  food  problem  of  relatively 
small  importance.  Rest,  peace,  and  the  placid  enjoyment 
of  objective  conditions  were  naturally  the  chief  end  of 
existence.  Where  bodily  activity  is  restricted,  sensual 
activity  becomes  dominant  and  is  closely  associated  with 
every  form  of  pleasure.  Women  are  not  thought  of  as 
companions  in  work  and  life,  but  as  sources  of  sensual 
gratification.  The  conditions  in  England  would  not 
admit  of  the  realization  of  such  ideals.  The  climate  was 
harsh,  damp,  and  chilly,  the  soil  was  unproductive,  the 
winters  long  and  dreary,  and  there  were  no  slaves.  Only 
an  energetic  people,  willing  to  work  and  ready  to  endure 
hardships,  could  thrive  under  these  disadvantages.  The 
women  could  not  be  mere  pretty  pictures  or  useless  play- 
things ;  they  must  possess  even  more  energy  and  fore- 
thought than  the  men.  So  the  classical  school  could  not 
find  native  encouragement  for  the  ideals  they  admired, 


THE  ECONOMISTS  351 

and  were  forced  to  seek  the  realization  of  their  hopes  not  in 
England,  but  in  sunny  Italy  and  other  distant  lands  more 
favoured  by  nature.  This  fact  made  them  travellers,  and 
when  they  returned  they  were  foreign-hearted  and  cos- 
mopolitan. There  was  thus  an  ever-widening  breach 
between  them  and  the  home  purists,  who  measured  every- 
thing by  local  standards.  The  more  the  purists  domi- 
nated at  home,  the  more  marked  became  the  foreignisms 
of  the  classical  school. 

In  time,  however,  a  new  movement  in  art  and  literature 
arose  in  sympathy  with  native  instincts,  and  brought  to 
its  support  the  classes  that  had  previously  opposed  art 
because  of  its  supposed  sensual  and  ritual  tendencies. 
This  art  grew  out  of  new  relations  to  nature  created  by 
economic  progress.  The  older  concept  of  nature  may  be 
said  to  be  chaos  relieved  by  a  few  exceptions.  Milton, 
for  example,  represents  the  universe  as  a  disagreeable 
waste  out  of  which  God  had  rescued  a  few  spots  like 
heaven  and  earth.  This  concept  originated  in  a  desert 
country,  where  dreary  sands  separated  the  few  fertile 
spots.  It  was  easy  to  domesticate  these  ideals  in  Eng- 
land, when  the  few  spots  under  cultivation  were  sepa- 
rated from  each  other  by  many  dangers  and  difficulties. 
In  early  times  the  horrors  of  the  country  terrified  every 
one:  the  roads  were  bad,  robbers  abounded,  and  even  the 
danger  of  starvation  was  not  absent.  Nor  was  it  possible 
to  enjoy  nature  in  quiet  while  dangerous  animals  were 
still  at  large.  Wolves  were  a  great  pest  in  western 
Europe,  and  made  any  form  of  outdoor  life,  except  hunt- 
ing, practically  impossible.  Furthermore,  outdoor  life 
was  disagreeable  in  cold  countries  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  year,  owing  to  the  lack  of  proper  clothing  and 
shelter.  People  dreaded  the  winter  and  the  mountains 
because  both  were  associated  with  cold  and  hunger.  The 
blazing  indoor  fire  gave  the  only  protection  from  these 
evils  and  created  the  only  ideals  harmonizing  with  winter 


352  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

conditions.  Woollen  clothing  and  better  houses  at  length 
remedied  the  evils  of  winter.  People  learned  to  enjoy 
rather  than  dread  the  open  air  and  the  fresh  breezes. 
Close  houses  and  confining  work  also  brought  on  lung 
diseases,  which  made  a  life  in  the  open  air  not  only  enjoy- 
able, but  necessary.  Economic  changes  thus  forced  the 
English  people  into  a  new  relation  to  the  world  about 
them,  and  by  giving  peace  and  security  to  outdoor  life, 
rendered  this  life  in  the  open  air  a  pleasant  relief  from 
the  routine  and  confinement  of  their  daily  life.  But  the 
climate  is  not  warm  and  dry  enough  to  allow  the  inactive 
enjoyment  characteristic  of  southern  regions.  To  counter- 
act its  dampness  and  chilliness,  sports,  mountain  climbing, 
and  other  forms  of  intense  exertion,  in  harmony  with  that 
large  expenditure  of  energy  which  is  normal  to  an  Eng- 
lishman, became  popular. 

In  the  South  a  love  of  nature  takes  the  form  of  recep- 
tive impressions  and  rest,  while  in  England  it  excites 
activity  and  creates  a  desire  for  obstacles  to  overcome. 
The  sentiments  of  an  Englishman  were  thus  brought  into 
harmony  with  the  activity  created  by  his  environmental 
conditions.  He  did  not  need  to  go  out  of  his  own  coun- 
try for  the  stimulus  and  pleasure  that  his  nature  craved. 
When  a  man  and  his  environment  harmonize,  foreign 
ideals  may  be  displaced  by  a  native  art. 

A  new  motive  for  the  development  of  taste  was  aroused 
by  the  inventions  that  stimulated  choice  in  the  ordinary 
details  of  life.  Calico  printing  gave  to  each  maiden  the 
power  to  choose  appropriate  colours  for  her  clothing,  and 
thus  furnished  object-lessons  by  which  every  one  profited. 
The  art  of  dressmaking  is  promoted  by  cheap  materials. 
When  a  suit  of  clothes  lasted  for  years,  and  only  coarse 
home  weaving  and  dyeing  were  known,  practically  no 
variety  was  possible,  and  no  development  of  taste  could 
result.  The  clothing,  ornaments,  and  houses  were  the 
outcome  of  dominant  local  conditions,  from  which  no  one 


THE  ECONOMISTS  353 

could  break  away.  Choice  became  effective  when  me- 
chanical contrivances  made  goods  from  the  general  mar- 
ket cheaper  and  superior  to  the  local  products.  Doubtless 
mechanical  art  is  a  low  order  of  art,  but  it  may  become 
an  aesthetic  force  by  exciting  choice  and  breaking  through 
the  monotony  of  local  conditions.  The  chromo,  the  photo- 
graph, bric-a-brac,  and  cheap  textiles  have  excited  feelings 
that  would  otherwise  have  remained  dormant. 

Dependent  on  economic  changes,  English  art  developed 
in  the  direction  that  these  changes  permitted.  Cheap 
travelling,  good  roads,  warm  clothing,  and  well-built 
houses  furnished  the  conditions  necessary  for  outdoor 
life  and  for  an  admiration  of  the  English  type  of  nature. 
The  industrial  improvement  acted  in  a  like  manner  on 
the  cultivation  of  choice.  English  art  has  thus  become 
associated  with  activity  and  choice.  Imported  southern 
ideals  of  rest  and  the  receptive  impressions  that  develop 
ideas  of  form  and  colour  have  not  made  a  corresponding 
progress.  In  spite  of  the  strong  foreignizing  tendencies 
at  work  in  England,  an  Englishman's  notions  of  aesthetic 
ideals  are  vague  except  where  they  have  been  excited  by 
his  local  environment.  He  loves  activity,  and  delights  to 
exercise  the  power  of  choice  and  to  observe  the  choices 
of  other  people.  But  here  his  interest  ends,  and  preju- 
dices begin  that  shape  his  notions  in  other  fields. 

This  new  attitude  was  reflected  in  the  English  poetry  of 
the  early  part  of  this  century.  The  classical  notions  of  rest 
and  repose  gave  place  to  ideals  of  activity.  Nature,  ceasing 
to  be  a  dreary  chaos,  became  an  animated  personality,  an 
object  of  love,  and  an  incentive  to  activity.  The  ballad  lit- 
erature also  excited  activity  and  revived  the  fading  national 
spirit.  Men  were  no  longer  ashamed  of  enthusiasm.  Their 
desire  for  activity  caused  them  to  break  through  the  re- 
straints set  by  foreign  ideals  and  models.  They  became 
domestic,  loved  the  beauties  of  their  own  region,  cher- 
ished its  history,  and  were  proud  of  its  peculiarities. 

2a 


354  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

These  changes  quickly  affected  religious  thought.  God 
became  identified  with  nature  conceived  as  the  whole  ex- 
ternal world.  He  was  no  longer  thought  of  as  a  mere 
creator  of  oases  like  heaven  and  earth.  A  mountain  or  a 
sunset  aroused  thoughts  of  him  as  well  as  a  compass,  a 
garden,  or  other  marks  of  intelligence  and  civilization. 
Evil  spirits  no  longer  had  a  chaos  in  which  to  reign,  but 
vanished  when  every  part  of  the  universe  began  to  mani- 
fest equally  the  glory  of  God.  Everything  that  excited 
activity  had  now  an  equal  claim  for  admiration  and  re- 
spect. The  pleasing  activity  of  the  ballads  soon  affected 
the  tone  of  the  hymns.  Instead  of  expressing  a  desire  to 
be  with  God  and  at  rest,  a  new  ideal  appeared.  Christians 
were  represented  as  having  the  same  energy,  activity,  and 
personal  force  that  the  characters  in  the  ballads  had,  but 
the  Christians  used  these  qualities  to  advance  their  reli- 
gion and  not  for  personal  ends.  The  deeds  of  the  early 
ballad  heroes  were  not  such  as  could  be  made  models,  but 
their  activity  and  earnestness  stimulated  desires  that  could 
find  vent  under  the  then  existing  conditions  only  in  Chris- 
tian work.  The  poets  thus  exercised  an  influence  that 
under  other  circumstances  could  not  have  been  expected. 
Naturally,  a  recitation  of  primitive  deeds,  and  a  laudation 
of  violent  measures  would  tend  to  cause  a  reversion  to 
primitive  ways.  They  created  an  ideal  of  activity  and 
energy,  however,  that  every  one  applied  to  those  concrete 
modern  problems  in  which  he  was  interested. 

The  later  poets  strengthened  this  tendency  by  creating 
a  concept  of  innocent  pleasures  connected  with  an  active 
life.  The  Puritan  reaction  aroused  an  opposition  to  active 
pleasures  by  associating  dissipation  with  them.  Home 
pleasures  were  those  of  rest  and  repose.  Activity  meant 
work,  six  days  of  which  demanded  a  complete  rest  on  the 
seventh.  The  poets  modified  this  concept  of  life  by  ideal- 
izing many  of  the  pleasures  to  which  religious  opposition 
was  most  intense.     People  who  would  never  have  allowed 


THE  ECONOMISTS  355 

their  daughters  to  dance  about  a  Maypole,  were  made  to 
feel  that  some  recreation  was  needed  to  vary  the  rigour  of 
every-day  life,  and  were  also  made  to  appreciate  the  feel- 
ings of  those  who  craved  some  such  pleasure  as  dancing. 
The  poets  did  not  succeed  in  reviving  past  conditions  or 
in  embodying  their  ideals  in  concrete  forms;  but  they  de- 
stroyed the  notions  that  non-economic  activity  was  a 
waste  of  energy,  and  that  communal  pleasures  were 
sensual  and  sinful.  By  this  time  most  of  the  early  amuse- 
ments were  matters  merely  of  tradition.  They  had  been 
thoroughly  rooted  out  by  the  strong  opposition  of  the 
Puritans  and  their  successors.  It  was  possible  therefore 
to  idealize  them,  and  to  associate  them  with  other  activi- 
ties and  sentiments  than  those  that  originally  accompanied 
them.  Beneath  each  picture  given  to  us  by  recent  poetry 
there  is  some  ideal  of  activity  or  of  choice  that  harmonizes 
with  the  new  sentiments  dominant  in  the  race.  Poetry  as 
well  as  economic  theory  and  religious  philosophy  has 
helped  the  race  to  become  abstract  in  thought  and  to  form 
ideals.  Poetry  emphasizes  the  utilitarian  element  more 
than  the  others  do,  and  thus  makes  it  more  easy  to  see 
what  the  process  is  by  which  ideals  are  formed.  The  poets 
have  been  the  chief  agents  in  rectifying  the  errors  about 
pleasures  into  which  the  economic  utilitarians  fell.  Ben- 
tham  assumed  that  happiness  was  connected  with  material 
objects,  and  that  there  was  a  unit  of  pleasure  for  each  unit 
of  wealth,  thus  making  it  easy  to  sum  up  pleasures.  It 
was  the  influence  of  poetry  that  made  Mill  reject  this  un- 
natural simplicity  and  recognize  differences  in  intensity 
of  pleasures,  and  by  this  recognition  he  destroyed  the  pos- 
sibility of  estimating  pleasures  on  any  arithmetical  basis. 

Intense  pleasures  cannot  be  broken  up  into  parts  of 
equal  value.  A  pure  pleasure  can  only  be  environed, 
that  is,  it  can  be  made  concrete  only  by  picturing  it  in 
connection  with  objects  and  activities  that  make  it  en- 
joyable.    In  this  process  there  is  an  abstraction,  because 


356  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

all  elements  of  pain  are  shut  out ;  in  reality  sources  of 
pleasure  are  rarely  so  blended  as  to  heighten  their  mutual 
effects.  Each  pleasure,  which  is  thus  intensified  by  its 
concrete  environment  of  associated  pleasures,  becomes  a 
motive  for  activity,  and  has  a  social  value  in  proportion 
to  its  intensity.  Poets  avoid  argumentation,  but  they  use 
the  same  mental  processes  and  attain  the  same  results  as 
successful  workers  in  social  science. 

The  Oxford  Movement  is  a  further  development  of 
the  ideals  and  the  methods  that  inspired  the  poets.  On 
the  face  of  things  the  representatives  of  this  movement 
seem  dogmatic  and  dialectical,  and  therefore  far  away 
from  the  utilitarian  tendencies  of  the  poets.  But  argu- 
ments and  conclusions  that  are  prompted  by  social  feel- 
ings are  of  value  for  the  power  of  abstract  thinking  they 
promote,  and  this  in  turn  is  valuable  for  the  materials 
it  gives  for  the  formation  of  new  ideals.  We  are  there- 
fore little  concerned  with  the  doctrines  they  defended  or 
with  the  cogency  of  their  reasoning.  All  these  may  be 
accepted  or  rejected,  as  the  reader  prefers.  The  ideals, 
however,  have  endured,  exerting  considerable  influence 
on  the  progress  of  religious  thought. 

The  leaders  of  the  Movement,  filled  with  the  belief 
that  the  foundations  of  the  Church  were  shaken,  and  its 
aims  and  ideals  lost  sight  of,  turned  from  the  existing 
Church  to  the  Church  of  the  past  for  a  basis  upon  which 
to  rest  their  doctrines.  The  activities  and  forms  of  the 
early  Church  were  idealized  in  the  same  way  as  the  rough 
local  manners  of  the  early  times  were  idealized  by  the 
writers  of  the  border  ballads.  The  Protestants,  to  justify 
their  secession  from  the  Catholic  Church,  emphasized  the 
errors  and  misdeeds  of  the  earlier  Church.  For  those 
who  believed  that  for  fifteen  centuries  the  Church  had 
been  mainly  in  the  wrong,  and  that  during  the  last  three 
centuries  the  vast  majority  of    Christians   had  still  con- 


THE  ECONOMISTS  357 

tinued  to  follow  evil  guides,  there  could  be  no  concept 
of  a  holy  Catholic  Church  guided  by  divine  wisdom. 

Painful  events  may  be  pictured  concretely  ;  evil  men 
may  be  thought  of  as  princes  and  rulers  ;  bad  institutions 
may  be  graphically  described  and  held  up  as  awful  ex- 
amples, but  they  cannot  be  idealized.  When  the  con- 
creteness  of  these  things  is  lost  by  making  them  over 
into  abstractions,  their  power  and  vividness  is  gone. 
Pains  lose  their  terrors  when  their  causes  no  longer  affect 
the  senses.  But  a  pleasant  thought  can  be  environed  by 
abstract  concepts  of  an  agreeable  nature  and  raised  to 
an  ideal.  It  was  natural  that  when  English  Protestant- 
ism felt  itself  no  longer  in  danger  from  Catholic  aggres- 
sion, the  evils  due  to  it  should  gradually  be  lost  sight 
of.  When  the  need  of  emphasizing  its  evils  was  no 
longer  felt,  the  beneficent  elements  of  the  early  Church 
became  prominent,  and  were  even  made  a  basis  for  further 
progress. 

The  leaders  of  the  Oxford  Movement  doubtless  thought 
that  the  actual  Church  of  the  fathers  corresponded  to  their 
conception  of  it.  They  were  too  abstract  as  thinkers, 
however,  to  treat  an  old  institution  in  a  truly  historical 
spirit.  Making  abstractions  here  and  there,  clipping  a 
bit  from  this  or  that  writer,  and  selecting  pleasing  usages, 
forms  and  customs,  they  united  all  these  concepts  and  cere- 
monies into  a  harmonious  whole,  which  became  to  them  the 
ideal  Church.  Their  reasoning  illustrates  the  concrete 
ideal  method  used  by  all  social  reformers.  The  verifica- 
tion in  their  case  was  the  discovery  that  the  Church  of 
Rome  was  the  embodiment  of  their  ideal.  Here,  again,  we 
see  the  effects  of  the  process  of  social  idealization.  Had 
they  started  out  with  a  study  of  the  actual  Church  of  Rome, 
they  would  doubtless  have  seen  its  bad  and  not  its  good 
side.  But  having  idealized  the  early  Church  by  rejecting 
all  discordant  and  disagreeable  elements  in  it,  they  were 
in  a  favourable  state  of  mind  to  do  the  same  for  the  actual 


358  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

Catholic  Church.  The  one  drill  in  abstract  thought  aided 
the  other.  Newman  and  others  never  seem  to  have  ex- 
amined the  actual  working  of  the  Catholic  Church  or  the 
evils  it  often  caused.  They  passed  from  the  ideal  of  a 
past  church  to  the  even  nobler  ideal  of  a  united  future 
church,  and  assumed  that  the  Church  of  Rome  would  be 
the  one  as  it  was  the  other.  Whatever  our  judgment  on 
this  identification  of  the  Catholic  Church  with  the  Church 
of  the  future,  it  is  evident  that  this  latter  concept  was 
made  a  part  of  English  thought  by  Newman  and  similar 
writers.  Protestantism  appeared  too  absorbed  in  the 
concreteness  of  its  sects  to  rise  without  external  aid  to 
the  lofty  ideal  of  a  united  church. 

The  real  source  of  the  subsequent  success  of  the  High 
Church  party  lay  in  that  English  love  of  choice  and  activity 
to  which  the  poets  also  appealed.  The  usual  Protestant 
service  is  too  quiet  and  too  passive  to  accord  with  English 
nature.  The  long  sermons  had  an  interest  so  long  as  they 
were  historical,  and  kept  fresh  in  memory  the  evil  deeds 
of  the  Catholics.  A  great  emphasis  upon  prayer  is  neces- 
sary in  evil  days  when  disasters,  disorders,  and  privations 
are  of  frequent  occurrence.  Prayer  is  the  attitude  taken 
by  religious  enthusiasts  when  the  hopelessness  of  human 
effort  becomes  apparent.  The  older  attitude  toward 
God  was  one  of  praise,  and  men  are  inclined  to  adopt  it 
in  time  of  prosperity,  pleasure,  and  optimism.  Prayer 
may  be  said  to  be  a  motor  collapse ;  praise  a  motor  out- 
burst. The  one  comes  naturally  in  states  of  exhaustion  and 
depression ;  the  other  is  a  natural  outlet  of  surplus  energy. 

It  is  not  possible  for  men  in  normal  conditions  to  remain 
long  in  that  attitude  of  depression  which  excites  prayer. 
Nor  can  such  conditions  frequently  return  except  in  an 
unfavourable  environment.  The  normal  service  of  a  well- 
fed,  active  people  must  be  one  of  praise.  Surplus  energy 
is  natural  in  prosperity,  and  an  outlet  for  it  is  a  human 
need.     Calvinism,  which  arose  in  a  period  of  depression, 


THE  ECONOMISTS  359 

danger,  and  trouble,  laid  strong  emphasis  upon  prayer, 
and  this  tendency  was  kept  alive  and  strengthened  by  the 
great  evangelical  revival.  The  spirit  of  prayer  became 
imbedded  in  the  very  heart  of  religion,  and  could  not  be 
thrust  out.  Protestantism  could  not  readily  rise  out  of 
the  concrete  conditions  that  gave  it  birth.  But  when  the 
religious  and  political  troubles  that  disturbed  England 
ceased,  a  service  of  praise  was  bound  to  appear,  and  the 
Oxford  Movement  was  the  agent  through  which  it  came. 
Its  leaders  did  not  succeed  in  carrying  the  Church  of 
England  over  to  Rome  ;  but  they  created  an  ideal  of  a 
united  church,  and  gave  an  impetus  to  services  of  praise 
that  has  influenced  all  religious  denominations.  They 
thus  became  one  of  the  forces  that  were  impressing  utili- 
tarian standards  on  English  thought. 

While  this  struggle  was  going  on  in  the  Church  of 
England,  by  which  the  Church  was  idealized  and  its  service 
reorganized  on  a  utilitarian  basis,  a  corresponding  change 
was  elevating  the  ideals,  of  the  Calvinists  and  the  Method- 
ists. The  old  or  Catholic  concept  of  the  Christ  was  that 
of  a  propitiation  for  sin.  He  was  thought  of  as  an  inno- 
cent sacrifice  enduring  intense  suffering  for  the  sins  of 
others.  This  concept  is  best  visualized  as  the  Christ  on 
the  cross.  The  crown  of  thorns,  the  piercing  wounds, 
and  the  flowing  blood  represent  in  a  concrete  form  the 
agony  He  suffered  as  a  martyr.  The  effect  of  this  terrible 
picture  is  individual.  We  think  of  Jesus  as  a  substitute 
enduring  the  punishments  that  justly  belong  to  us  as 
individuals.  The  suffering  Christ  is  in  too  great  agony 
to  think  of  others.  We  cannot  imagine  so  much  pain 
without  a  concentration  of  thought,  for  the  time  at  least, 
on  the  physical  self  that  bears  it.  The  Catholic  Christ 
represents  a  moment  of  agony  too  intense  to  be  enduring. 
Christ  on  the  cross  cannot  be  idealized  ;  it  must  always 
remain  a  concrete  picture. 


360  DEVELOPMENT   OF   ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

The  Methodists  brought  to  the  front  a  new  concept  of 
the  Christ,  which  has  been  raised  into  a  social  ideal.  The 
great  revivalists  thought  of  the  Jesus,  not  as  on  the  cross 
absorbed  in  His  own  suffering,  but  as  engaged  in  mission- 
ary work.  He  is,  they  taught,  ever  present,  and  ready  to 
aid  the  sinner,  always  following  him  up  and  pleading  for 
the  cause  of  righteousness.  This  Christ  is  a  brother  of  men 
and  is  active  in  their  interest.  The  Methodist  picture  is 
thus  not  an  instantaneous  photograph  of  the  Saviour  at  a 
single  moment,  but  an  idealization  of  the  form  of  activity 
all  men  should  take  toward  their  race.  So  Jesus  becomes 
an  example  and  a  model  for  imitation,  representing  the 
qualities  in  men  that  bind  them  together  and  elevate  them 
into  a  higher  social  unity. 

The  qualities  and  activities  associated  with  the  Christ 
are  those  of  a  mother  who  has  a  tempted  son  to  protect. 
We  associate  power  with  God,  but  not  with  Jesus.  He 
is  like  a  mother,  a  pleader  for  the  right,  but  not  a  judge. 
He  is  assumed  to  have  a  mother's  willingness  to  forgive, 
and  the  long-suffering  patience  that  mothers  show  in 
cases  that  seem  hopeless  to  others.  The  .Catholics  keep 
the  Christ  as  a  concrete  picture,  their  idealization  of 
woman  being  associated  with  the  Virgin  Mary.  In  the 
Methodist  concept  of  Christ  womanly  qualities  are  also 
idealized,  but  they  are  so  elevated  and  refined  that  they 
have  lost  their  mere  womanly  associations.  In  Meth- 
odism the  goal  of  man's  development  is  to  acquire  quali- 
ties now  seen  plainly  only  in  women.  It  might  also  be 
said  that  the  Catholic  Virgin  represents  the  young  mother, 
and  hence  manifests  the  careless,  thoughtless  attitude  of 
youth.  Methodism  has  idealized  the  mature  mother 
whose  interests  are  centred  in  a  tempted  son.  Thus 
stripped  of  all  worldly  associations,  the  ideal  of  woman 
can  be  united  with  the  highest  of  beings. 

This  ideal  is  plainly  the  result  of  the  influence  of  the 
womanly  man  on  religion.     The  "  mother's   boys,"  who 


THE  ECONOMISTS  361 

make  her  word  their  law,  and  who  try  to  ingraft  on 
themselves  the  qualities  she  possesses,  readily  remodel 
religious  concepts  to  reflect  all  that  is  admirable  in  actual 
life.  To  such  men  the  good  is  not  a  powerful  but  a 
persuasive  force ;  and  they  create  their  concept  of  the 
divine  personality  by  attributing  to  it  the  qualities  they 
most  admire  in  the  best  of  human  beings.  In  their 
minds,  love  of  mother  and  respect  for  her  wishes  are 
the  only  road  to  the  highest  ideal  of  Christ. 

While  the  womanly  man  was  changing  the  racial  ideal 
of  Christ,  the  womanly  woman  was  modifying  our  con- 
cept of  God.  In  the  English  home  the  position  of  the 
father  and  mother  has  gradually  changed.  The  father, 
ceasing  to  be  the  defender  and  ruler  of  the  family,  has 
become  the  source  of  its  economic  support.  Mothers 
thus  relieved  from  arduous  outdoor  work  concentrate 
their  attention  on  the  home  and  its  management.  Money 
getting  is  the  father's  first  duty ;  money  spending  is  that 
of  the  mother.  Women  have  thus  practically  usurped 
the  control  of  affairs  which  formerly  belonged  to  men. 
A  father  under  these  circumstances  becomes  the  source 
of  bounties,  and  not  the  source  of  power.  Children 
think  of  him  not  as  their  ruler,  but  as  the  giver  of 
good  things.  When  this  thought  is  generalized  and 
applied  in  religion,  God  as  the  Father  of  all  becomes 
the  source  of  blessings.  We  no  longer  think  of  Him  as 
an  engine  of  vengeance  to  be  used  in  crushing  enemies. 
We  call  on  the  State  for  that.  Nor  do  we  think  of  Him 
as  a  God  of  wrath  ready  to  destroy  us  for  our  misdeeds, 
but  He  becomes  a  generous  Father,  providing  for  the 
wants  of  His  children.  As  soon  as  the  duties  of  the 
earthly  father  are  so  differentiated  that  he  becomes 
the  cause  of  an  economic  surplus,  a  new  meaning  is 
attached  to  the  thought  of  a  heavenly  Father.  The 
God  of  olden  times  was  thought  of  as  a  just  God  who 
gave  men  exactly  what  they  deserved,  no  more  and  no 


362  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

less.  No  one  now  expects  God  to  be  just  in  this  sense. 
We  expect  from  Him  the  same  surplus  that  earthly 
fathers  freely  give.  In  this  way  our  new  social  relations 
have  led  to  the  revival  of  an  old  concept  of  the  Deity 
which  prevailed  before  the  conflict  of  races  turned  Him 
into  a  God  of  hate  and  vengeance.  Clannish  notions 
of  God  are  due  to  the  fierce  opposition  of  interests 
created  by  overpopulation  in  congested  districts.  In 
still  earlier  times,  when  there  was  room  for  all,  God 
was  thought  of  as  a  source  of  bounties  and  as  a  guide 
who  brought  His  followers  into  contact  with  the  best 
of  regions  and  goods.  This  shepherd  God  is  revealed 
in  many  of  the  oldest  parts  of  the  Scriptures,  and  es- 
pecially in  the  Psalms.  When  the  Psalmist  said,  "  The 
Lord  is  my  shepherd,"  he  had  the  same  thought  that 
modern  economic  conditions  have  revived.  The  influence 
and  dominance  of  the  womanly  woman  in  our  homes 
made  God  again  visual  and  personal  by  giving  a  new 
meaning  to  the  word  "father"  and  raising  it  into  a 
race  ideal. 

The  old  religious  philosophy  tried  to  determine  the 
nature  and  qualities  of  God,  and  to  make  from  them 
bold  deductions  concerning  the  affairs  of  men.  Religious 
leaders  now  try  to  perform  a  more  modest  task  ;  they 
seek  to  establish  not  the  real  nature  of  God,  —  this  is 
beyond  our  present  powers,  —  but  such  concepts  of  Him 
as  beings  of  our  mental  capacity  can  appreciate.  An 
ideal  of  God  is  less  than  the  reality,  because  it  is  a  con- 
crete visualization  of  some  phase  of  His  character.  But 
several  such  views  blended  into  one  give  to  men  a  nobler 
idea  of  Him  than  any  attempted  analysis  of  his  whole 
nature.  Each  type  of  men  idealize  the  particular  quali- 
ties appealing  to  them,  and  the  joint  result  becomes  the 
race  ideal. 

Three  distinct  types  of  character  have  contributed  to 
the  race  ideal  of  God.     The  manly  man  thinks  of  Him 


THE  ECONOMISTS  363 

as  animated  nature ;  the  womanly  man  pictures  Him  as 
Christ ;  while  the  womanly  woman  visualizes  Him  as  the 
source  of  bounties  and  blessings.  Each  of  these  ideals 
harmonizes  with  some  element  in  the  experience  of  the 
race,  and  together  they  stimulate  the  motor  tendencies 
manifested  in  religious  life. 

Recent  religious  literature  shows  that  the  perception  of 
these  ideals  is  modifying  the  arguments  of  theologians, 
and  making  them  conform  to  the  concrete  ideal  method 
of  reasoning  which  social  thinkers  have  used  so  effectively. 
Arguments  about  the  possibility  of  miracles  and  of  an 
incarnation  no  longer  receive  the  attention  formerly  paid 
to  them.  The  recent  lives  of  Jesus  make  Him  vivid  and 
real  by  showing  that  He  did  what  a  divine  person  would 
be  expected  to  do.  They  thus  form  a  verification  for 
those  who  already  have  an  ideal  of  Him  and  a  hope  that 
He  was  a  real  person.  Men  with  social  instincts  and 
habits  of  thought  are  more  influenced  by  this  method  of 
presentation  than  they  would  be  by  metaphysical  argu- 
ments. Race  ideals  are  kept  alive,  not  by  reasoning,  but 
by  the  motor  power  created  by  their  perception.  So  long 
as  these  ideals  have  a  social  value  and  a  possible  verifica- 
tion in  the  history  of  the  race,  they  will  be  perpetuated, 
even  if  their  metaphysical  basis  is  insecure. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CONCLUDING  REMARKS 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  discuss  current  problems. 
I  doubt  if  any  of  the  attempts  to  philosophize  about  our 
present  conditions  will  yield  results  of  permanent  value. 
We  seem  to  be  in  the  initial  stages  of  a  forward  move- 
ment, but  we  have  not  passed  through  the  many  rever- 
sions which  new  epochs  occasion.  We  have  not  yet  had 
a  Hobbes  or  a  Malthus  to  begin  the  epoch,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  subsequent  upward  and  downward  curves  of 
thought.  But  there  are  certain  results  of  preceding 
epochs  that  will  assist  us  in  forming  a  judgment  of  the 
probable  future  movement  of  thought.  We  have  also 
certain  hints  as  to  the  economic  conditions  that  will  domi- 
nate the  immediate  future  and  create  the  economic  pres- 
sure out  of  which  the  movement  of  thought  will  proceed. 

In  the  three  epochs  I  have  described  the  great  cause  of 
development  has  lain  in  the  opposition  between  home  and 
communal  interests  and  pleasures;  and  the  great  result 
has  been  the  reconciliation  of  economics  and  religion. 
The  stock  ideals  of  the  race,  those  energized  by  well- 
tried  motor  reactions  were  religious ;  while  the  new  ones 
that  were  being  made  by  the  pressure  of  existing  condi- 
tions were  economic,  of  that  type  which  we  now  call  utili- 
tarian. Men  in  whom  the  old  religious  instincts  were 
strong  were  suspicious  of  pleasures,  and  sought  to  develop 
a  conscious  morality  based  on  past  conditions.  The  eco- 
nomic utilitarians,  however,  distrusted  religious  motives 
and  sought  to  substitute  motives  related  to  present  activi- 
ties.    The  old  and  the  new  instincts  of  the  race  were  thus 

364 


CONCLUDING  KEMARKS  365 

brought  into  a  conflict,  which  resulted  in  the  downward 
and  upward  curves  of  thought.  But  this  opposition  has 
gradually  disappeared  because  of  the  changed  position 
forced  upon  the  two  parties.  The  leading  economic  in- 
stincts have  now  become  as  thoroughly  racial  as  are  those 
of  religion.  The  instincts  and  doctrines  of  industrialism 
have  been  ground  into  the  race  by  the  force  of  circum- 
stances as  powerful  as  were  those  that  created  the  religious 
feelings  and  ideas.  With  a  large  part  of  the  race  the 
industrial  motives  are  now  as  spontaneous  and  forceful  as 
any  of  the  older  stock  reactions  that  find  an  outlet  in  reli- 
gious activity. 

On  the  other  hand  religious  concepts  have  become  utili- 
tarian. A  long  and  bitter  struggle  was  necessary  before 
religious  ideals  acquired  a  utilitarian  concreteness,  but  this 
has  at  last  been  so  thoroughly  done  that  no  reversion  to 
the  religion  of  a  pain  economy  is  possible.  The  change 
from  an  extensive  to  an  intensive  religion  has  hastened  the 
reconciliation  of  economics  and  religion,  for  it  put  religion 
upon  an  inductive  basis  and  made  its  rules  and  policy  har- 
monize with  the  conditions  of  the  present  environment. 
Religious  leaders,  no  longer  deracialized  by  education,  are 
dissatisfied  with  foreign  platitudes  and  commonplaces. 
Their  maxims  and  rules  are  of  home  growth,  and  the  evils 
they  emphasize  are  those  of  present  society.  The  struggle 
for  the  supremacy  of  the  home  has  made  them  as  economic 
and  concrete  as  the  utilitarians  whom  they  once  so  heartily 
denounced.  There  are  not  to-day  two  programmes  of 
reform,  the  one  economic  and  the  other  religious;  the 
groups  of  instincts  that  excite  religious  and  economic 
activity  are  the  same.  The  classes  that  lead  in  the  eco- 
nomic world  are  at  the  same  time  the  classes  earnest  in 
religion.  So  true  is  this  that  many  complain  that  the 
Church  is  dominated  by  the  capitalists,  and  has  sunk  to 
be  their  tool.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  fact  remains  that 
the  opposition  between  the  two  groups  of   instincts  has 


366  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

disappeared.  Religion  has  gradually  divorced  itself  from 
asceticism,  and  utilitarianism  from  sensualism,  until  the 
two  occupy  the  same  field  and  have  the  same  rules  of 
conduct.  The  religious  and  the  economic  motives  and 
ideals  are  felt  by  the  same  men,  and  the  forces  that  make 
society  economic  also  make  it  religious. 

This  union  of  the  two  dominant  groups  of  instincts  and 
ideals  has  given  a  distinctive  character  to  English  civiliza- 
tion. On  the  one  hand  the  local  and  peculiar  has  been 
subordinated  to  the  general  and  national;  on  the  other 
hand  there  has  been  a  marked  differentiation  from  foreign 
nations  and  standards.  We  are  no  longer  cosmopolitans 
who  wish  to  merge  our  civilization  in  that  of  the  world. 
We  think  of  ours  as  the  civilization,  and  seek  to  impress 
our  standards  and  ideals  on  others.  There  has  never 
before  been  so  large  a  body  of  people  with  practically 
the  same  standards  and  ideals.  The  unity  is  not  merely 
one  of  language  and  tradition ;  it  is  motor  as  well  as 
sensory.  We  not  only  read  the  same  books,  see  the 
same  sights,  and  obey  the  same  law,  but  we  also  react  in 
the  same  manner  against  the  evils  of  the  environment, 
have  the  same  group  of  sympathies,  are  prompted  to 
activity  by  the  same  wants,  and  seek  to  realize  the  same 
ideals  and  social  ends.  The  unity  of  older  nations  was 
sensory.  Men  were  held  together  by  a  common  language 
and  environment.  Activity  was  stirred  up  by  appeals  to 
the  native  rocks  and  hills,  and  to  other  environmental 
objects  of  common  interest.  The  English  race  has  no 
common  environment.  The  local  peculiarities  of  the  re- 
gions they  occupy  are  as  diverse  as  the  earth  permits. 
They  have  no  Rhine  to  guard  nor  Mecca  to  preserve.  The 
local  has  everywhere  been  subordinated  or  so  idealized  as 
to  lose  its  sensory  reality.  There  is  not  a  concrete  golden 
age  to  recover,  but  a  social  Utopia  to  attain. 

The  unity  of  the  race  is  thus  not  environmental  but 
psychic.     The  race  ideals  and  social  standards  are  not  the 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  367 

mere  reflection  of  external  conditions,  they  are  the  prod- 
ucts of  psychic  activity.  We  do  not  all  have  the  same 
stream  of  ingoing  impressions :  the  likeness  is  in  the  out- 
going stream  of  activity  that  these  impressions  excite. 
The  pressure  of  past  events  has  made  the  race  susceptible 
to  the  same  sentiments  and  has  created  the  same  mental 
reactions.  These  traits  and  motives  determine  the  national 
character,  and  give  to  the  race  ideals  a  supersensory  form 
that  lifts  them  above  the  concrete  conditions  of  the  present 
or  the  past.  The  ideals  can  become  a  reality  only  in  a 
Utopia  that  provides  a  sensory  environment  in  harmony 
with  the  motor  outgoings  of  the  social  self. 

This  harmony  has  become  as  real  in  our  religious  life 
as  in  other  social  matters.  There  are,  it  is  true,  many 
denominations  with  many  different  rituals  and  creeds,  but 
beneath  these  remnants  of  the  sensory  environments  of 
the  past  lie  the  tendencies  that  appear  when  the  national 
character  shows  itself  in  activity.  These  motor  reactions 
are  alike  in  all  Christians.  The  same  feeling  of  charity 
succours  distress,  the  same  misery  is  felt  when  men  are 
depressed  by  sin,  the  same  hopes  inspire  activity,  the 
same  religious  ideals  raise  men  out  of  their  local  environ- 
ment, and  the  same  sermon  pleases,  no  matter  from  what 
pulpit  it  is  delivered.  The  idealization  of  religion  has 
taken  it  out  of  its  historical  and  sensory  settings,  and 
made  it  like  the  national  character  —  a  motor  tendency 
that  can  find  a  new  concrete  expression  only  in  the  Utopia 
the  race  is  striving  to  realize.  The  more  the  active  side 
of  Christianity  is  emphasized,  the  clearer  does  the  real 
unity  of  the  Church  appear.  Viewed  in  this  way,  there 
is  an  English  Catholic  Church  with  as  definite  characteris- 
tics as  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
Protestants  no  longer  fear  a  reversion  to  an  earlier  religion. 
,  The  concepts  of  the  new  Christianity  are  thoroughly  in- 
bred, and  we  cannot  depart  from  them  except  by  some 
disaster  that  would  destroy  the  unity  and  the  supremacy 


368  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  the  race.  If  religious  and  other  social  ideals  were 
merely  associations  of  sensory  ideas,  they  might  be  easily 
destroyed  and  replaced  by  new  ones.  Reversion  to  earlier 
conditions  or  conversion  to  abstract  schemes  of  philosophy 
having  no  economic  antecedents  might  then  be  effected  by 
mere  argument  or  by  appeals  to  objects  and  ceremonies 
that  please  the  senses.  But  the  truly  social  ideals  have  a 
motor  mechanism  by  which  to  express  themselves,  as  well 
as  a  sensory  mechanism  by  which  they  are  impressed. 
These  motor  reactions  are  due  to  the  slow  growth  of 
heredity,  and  are  changed  with  no  less  difficulty  than  the 
physical  organism.  It  was  perhaps  once  an  open  question 
whether  we  should  have  fingers  and  toes,  or  be  hoofed  like 
horses.  But  fingers  and  toes  once  acquired  cannot  be 
changed  into  hoofs.  If  some  other  form  of  being  were 
needed  to  master  the  conditions  of  future  environments, 
man  would  disappear  and  nature  would  try  to  make  a  new 
superior  being  out  of  another  animal.  The  psychic  evolu- 
tion is  just  as  definite  as  the  physical ;  when  a  step  in  ad- 
vance is  once  taken,  it  cannot  be  reversed.  If  the  step 
does  not  prove  of  permanent  advantage,  the  race  dies  out, 
and  men  of  a  more  primitive  type  try  to  meet  the  condi- 
tions in  some  other  way. 

The  English-speaking  race  is  definitely  committed  to 
certain  religious  and  economic  ideals  and  standards.  The 
success  of  these  means  the  success  and  the  supremacy  of  a 
race  ;  their  failure  to  meet  the  conditions  of  a  world  en- 
vironment would  mean  that  the  race  will  disappear  as  other 
races  have  done  under  similar  circumstances.  Our  prog- 
ress and  ascendency  depend  on  decisions  that  have  already 
been  made.  Upon  their  correctness  hangs  the  future  wel- 
fare of  the  race. 

Judged  from  this  standpoint,  the  influence  of  science  on 
national  thought  will  be  found  to  be  different  from  what 
might  be  anticipated.     Had  the   scientific   discoveries  of 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  369 

the  nineteenth  century  preceded  the  age  of  the  Puritans, 
methods  of  reasoning  and  habits  of  thought  might  have 
been  acquired  that  would  have  made  the  English  character 
different  from  what  it  now  is.  The  decline  of  objective 
morality  might  have  been  prevented,  a  love  of  foreign 
facts  and  ways  might  have  kept  the  race  cosmopolitan  in 
spirit,  and  the  visualizing  power,  created  by  the  religious 
transformation,  might  have  been  replaced  by  better  powers 
of  observation.  In  short,  a  sensory  development  might 
have  continued  that  would  have  made  men  moral  and 
aesthetic  instead  of  religious  and  economic.  But  now  that 
the  race  has  acquired  the  power  of  visualizing,  the  love  of 
ideals,  the  desire  for  subjective  standards,  and  other  motor 
peculiarities,  it  is  impossible  for  sensory  ideas,  no  matter 
how  clearly  presented,  to  regain  their  former  ascendency. 
As  a  race,  we  no  longer  see  the  world  as  it  is,  but  as  we 
make  it.  We  are  not  satisfied  with  a  bare  reality,  but 
struggle  for  some  Utopia  created  by  our  fancies.  The 
contest  between  religion  and  science,  as  represented  by  the 
agnostics,  is  thus  a  crude  struggle  between  two  types  of 
men.  With  regard  to  many  of  their  differences,  it  matters 
little  which  party  is  in  the  right :  the  truth  of  doctrines  and 
creeds  is  of  no  vital  importance.  The  real  issue  is  whether 
a  further  development  of  the  sensory  powers  is  of  greater 
social  value  than  the  further  growth  of  the  motor  powers. 
Do  we  need  greater  ability  to  observe,  and  a  closer  adjust- 
ment to  objective  conditions,  or  do  we  need  that  better 
expression  of  the  self  which  ideals,  Utopias,  and  social 
standards  encourage? 

The  decision  on  this  question  is  determining  present 
racial  development,  and  will  determine  that  of  the  imme- 
diate future.  I  do  not  mean  that  there  is  a  permanent 
opposition  between  the  two  tendencies.  The  distant  fut- 
ure will  doubtless  develop  a  man  who  will  combine  great 
sensory  and  motor  powers,  but  for  a  long  period  the 
two  will  not  develop  coordinately ;  more  likely  each  in 
2b 


370  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

turn  will  develop  as  the  economic  conditions  demand. 
Agnosticism  and  kindred  views  cannot  transform  the 
national  thought  unless  the  need  of  sensory  analysis  is 
greater  than  the  need  of  motor  vigour.  Before  modes  of 
reasoning  that  have  a  purely  objective  basis  can  be  brought 
back,  the  observer  must  displace  the  visualizer.  There  is 
no  evidence  that  this  is  being  done.  Economic  conditions 
have  favoured  motor  development,  and  so  long  as  these 
continue  unchanged,  religious  and  social  ideals  will  hold 
their  own  in  spite  of  any  objections  that  may  be  urged 
on  purely  sensory  grounds.  Requisites  for  survival  have 
preeminence  over  mere  matters  of  fact. 

If  we  take  the  evidence  presented  by  the  periods  under 
investigation,  the  influence  of  science  has  been  exerted 
mainly  on  the  methods  of  reasoning.  It  seems  to  have 
had  little  power  to  change  by  any  direct  means  the  dog- 
mas, traditions,  and  ideals  of  the  race.  Changes  in  these 
respects  are  to  be  accounted  for  on  other  grounds.  Yet 
each  new  epoch  has  adopted  new  methods  of  reasoning 
about  its  creeds  and  ideals  and  new  ways  of  presenting 
them.  The  dominant  or  favourite  science  of  the  day  has 
been  the  model,  and  determined  men's  ideas  of  the  nature 
of  proof,  and  other  sciences  have  tried  as  best  they  might 
to  make  their  evidence  conform  to  the  accepted  standard. 

In  the  first  part  of  the  nineteenth  century  every  proof 
to  be  worthy  of  attention  had  to  conform  to  the  Newtonian 
standard.  There  had  to  be  two  primary  forces  whose  effects 
were  first  worked  out,  and  then  a  lot  of  disturbing  causes 
were  considered  afterwards.  At  present  the  popular  no- 
tions of  proof  have  swung  to  the  opposite  pole.  Great 
masses  of  concrete  facts  must  be  collected  beneath  which 
the  theories  of  the  collector  are  submerged.  Facts  are  now 
supreme  because  biology  has  become  the  model  science, 
and  students  are  forced  to  work  and  reason  according  to  its 
methods.  Yet  the  real  opinions  of  men  have  not  been 
altered.     If  the  mass  of  obtruding  facts  be  pushed  aside,  it 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  371 

will  be  found  that  the  skeleton  of  men's  thought  —  their 
real  opinions  and  creeds — has  undergone  but  little  modi- 
fication, and  such  changes  as  have  taken  place  are  due  to 
the  dominance  of  new  types  of  men,  and  not  to  the  new 
opinions  of  any  of  the  older  types.  The  older  types  now 
appeal  to  a  new  evidence  to  prove  the  same  doctrines  they 
would  have  proved  in  another  way  a  couple  of  generations 
ago.  For  a  time  it  did  ^eem  indeed  that  the  new  facts 
were  all  on  one  side ;  but  when  men  holding  the  older 
views  were  convinced  that  new  methods  of  proof  had  come 
into  vogue,  they  found  means  of  presenting  the  old  ideas 
in  a  new  guise.  Downward  curves  of  thought  from  ideas 
to  facts  are  readily  created  when  the  need  of  them  is  once 
felt.  New  methods  of  reasoning  are  not  so  important  as 
they  seem.  They  change  only  the  form  of  presentation 
and  leave  the  content  of  thought  unaltered  unless  a  change 
also  takes  place  in  the  inherited  instincts  of  the  race  or  in 
its  economic  environment. 

It  is  in  this  latter  field  that  the  great  influence  of  scien- 
tific progress  is  felt.  Science  has  little  power  to  alter 
national  thought  by  direct  means,  but  it  has  great  power 
in  creating  new  economic  conditions,  and  these  modify 
the  national  thought.  It  is  not  the  opinions  and  be- 
liefs of  scientific  men  that  change  public  opinion,  but  the 
effects  of  their  discoveries  on  the  environment.  A  great 
invention  changes  the  conditions  of  survival  and  allows  a 
new  type  of  man  to  succeed.  This  new  man  has  not 
the  mental  habits  of  his  predecessor,  and  reasons  and 
acts  differently.  Public  opinion  is  changed  by  economic 
conditions  permitting  some  new  class  of  men  to  dominate 
society,  and  not  by  the  rules  of  evidence  or  creeds  of  the 
men  whose  discoveries  made  these  changes  possible.  Sup- 
pose, for  example,  that  a  group  of  scientists  should  dis- 
cover some  permanent  cure  for  the  fevers  of  the  tropical 
regions.  The  resulting  modification  of  the  conditions  of 
survival  would  render  possible  a  new  type  of  man  in  the 


372  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

tropics,  and  cause  radical  changes  in  opinion  and  in  mental 
traits.  But  these  changes  would  be  entirely  independent 
of  the  opinions  and  beliefs  of  the  scientists  making  the 
discovery.  The  real  question  is,  what  habits  of  thought, 
what  creeds  and  ideals  have  a  social  value  under  the 
new  conditions?  These  new  conditions  will  create  the 
beliefs  and  motor  reactions  of  those  who  live  under  them, 
and  nothing  else  will  have  any  influence.  The  opinions  of 
Jenner  had  no  influence  on  those  whom  the  discovery  of 
vaccination  saved  to  society.  He  simply  altered  the  con- 
ditions of  survival,  and  these  conditions  worked  out  their 
natural  effect  by  giving  men  views  that  harmonized,  not 
with  Jenner's  beliefs  and  modes  of  thought,  but  with  the 
new  environment. 

It  is  often  said  erroneously  that  the  Royal  Society  de- 
stroyed superstition.  The  opinions,  beliefs,  and  experi- 
ments of  its  members  were  unknown  to  those  who  indulged 
in  superstitious  practices.  The  cure  was  effected  before 
people  read  the  papers  of  this  worthy  institution  or  lis- 
tened to  its  lecturers.  Superstition  died  when  men  got 
regular  employment  and  three  meals  a  day.  The  habits 
of  thought  creating  superstition  come  from  an  irregular 
life  and  from  the  impossibility  of  predicting  future  events 
or  of  providing  for  future  needs.  As  the  cause  of  super- 
stition lies  in  the  defects  of  the  environment,  it  cannot  be 
argued  out  of  men  so  long  as  these  defects  continue  to  im- 
pose certain  habits  of  thought  upon  them.  With  changed 
conditions  superstition  disappears  because  the  type  of  men 
who  follow  superstitious  practices  are  at  a  disadvantage. 
The  men  that  now  survive  need  no  Royal  Society  to  con- 
vince them  of  the  folly  of  superstition,  for  the  pressure  of 
economic  conditions  imposes  upon  them  contrary  habits  of 
thought. 

We  are  now  having  a  fair  chance  to  test  this  theory  of 
the  dominant  influence  of  scientific  habits  of  thought  on 
public  opinion.     Dyspepsia  is  becoming  prevalent,  and  this 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  373 

disease  destroys  the  regular  connection  that  exists  in  sound 
persons  between  eating,  digestion,  and  assimilation.  A 
dyspeptic  never  knows  whether  the  food  he  eats  will  be 
assimilated  or  turned  into  noxious  compounds  that  will 
cause  him  pain.  He  is  in  the  same  uncertainty  with  re- 
gard to  the  effect  of  what  he  eats  that  the  primitive  man 
was  in  with  regard  to  his  ability  to  get  something  to  eat. 
The  result  is  the  same  in  both  cases.  In  the  dyspeptic 
uncertainty  creates  superstitious  beliefs  and  a  willingness 
to  use  quack  remedies.  He  is  always  trying  new  nostrums, 
and  is  filled  with  queer  notions  of  the  most  arbitrary  sort. 
He  is  a  victim  of  superstitious  fancies  akin  to  those  which 
tyrannized  over  his  untrained  ancestors.  If  all  men  should 
become  dyspeptics,  superstition  would  be  as  rife  in  a  cen- 
tury as  it  was  in  the  Middle  Ages,  in  spite  of  Royal  Socie- 
ties and  other  scientific  bodies.  They  could  help  the  race, 
not  by  their  opinions  on  superstition,  but  by  discovering 
some  relief  for  dyspepsia.  The  tests  of  survival,  not  the 
opinions  of  scholars,  determine  the  course  of  events  and 
the  development  of  thought. 

Socialism  is  a  compound  of  two  elements  with  one  of 
which  its  connection  is  inherent  and  with  the  other  acci- 
dental. A  social  Utopia  is  a  race  ideal  that  inspires  activ- 
ity. But  the  form  of  this  Utopia  is  never  definite  ;  it  does 
not  represent  the  actual  and  the  real.  When  better  con- 
ditions open  up  new  possibilities,  bolder  visualization  en- 
larges the  Utopia  until  it  is  farther  off  than  before.  Its 
power  over  men  increases  as  it  becomes  less  real  and  more 
remote.  It  grows  in  vividness  as  it  loses  its  concreteness. 
Bold  thinking  is  based  on  a  few  material  elements,  and 
even  these  are  arranged  in  forms  unknown  to  actual  life. 

Much  of  the  force  of  socialism  comes  from  the  per- 
ception of  this  Utopian  ideal.  Its  chief  characteristic, 
however,  is  an  over-emphasis  of  the  mechanical  aids  that 
promote  progress.     Men  are  charmed  with  the  thought  of 


374  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH   THOUGHT 

having  everything  done  for  them,  and  love  to  picture  a 
social  mechanism  that  will  supply  wants  without  those 
individual  cares  that  are  now  so  harassing.  This  mechan- 
ism, whether  social  or  physical,  is  a  device  to  reduce  activ- 
ity and  to  allow  more  time  for  the  enjoyment  of  sensory 
impressions.  If  this  mechanism  were  complete,  men  would 
become  sensory  microbes  immersed  in  a  stream  of  impres- 
sions. Suppose  the  ideal  pictured  by  Mr.  Bellamy,  in  his 
Looking  Backward,  were  realized,  and  that  the  social 
mechanism  were  so  complete  that  a  man  lying  in  bed 
might,  by  touching  a  button,  listen  to  sermons,  operas,  and 
dramas,  or  illuminate  the  walls  of  his  room  with  the  finest 
products  of  art ;  suppose  further  that  his  meals  were  served 
in  a  mechanical  way,  and  that  some  device  were  discovered 
to  supply  every  want  —  would  such  a  passive  state  satisfy 
men  for  any  length  of  time  ? 

It  is  easy  to  see  the  source  of  this  ideal.  Even  religion 
is  not  free  from  it.  A  haven  of  rest  is  perhaps  the  first 
ideal  of  men  in  a  world  of  trial  and  trouble.  It  is  a  reac- 
tion inevitable  in  all  who  live  in  an  intense  pain  economy. 
The  sole  conscious  end  is  to  get  rid  of  pain,  to  live  in  ease 
and  experience  pleasurable  sensory  impressions.  To  make 
production  mechanical  is  to  give  that  relief  from  activity 
which  a  tired  man  craves.  To  him  work  is  misery,  rest  is 
happiness.  It  is  not  surprising  that  a  Utopian  picture  of 
rest  is  pleasing  in  an  age  where  so  many  men  suffer  from 
overwork. 

The  ideal  attracts  two  classes  of  men :  those  who  need 
rest,  and  those  who  crave  sensory  gratifications.  It  is  re- 
pugnant to  those  who  want  activity  and  an  opportunity 
to  exercise  their  wills.  A  love  of  activity  and  a  desire  to 
overcome  obstacles  do  not  harmonize  with  mechanical  con- 
trivances to  displace  effort  and  to  make  life  monotonous  by 
forcing  it  to  run  in  fixed  grooves.  The  opposition  between 
these  two  ends  appears  in  the  struggle  between  the  capital- 
istic and  the  socialistic  instincts.     Economic  institutions 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  375 

reward  push  and  enterprise.  Equality  and  liberty  do  not 
stand  so  high  in  public  esteem  as  energy  and  decision.  In 
the  business  world  the  executive  man  has  an  advantage 
over  the  man  of  refined  perceptions  and  emotions.  Capi- 
talists want  power  and  activity  more  than  enjoyment. 
Survival  thus  favours  the  growth  of  motor  power,  and 
checks  that  sensory  progress  which  would  make  men  hair 
splitters  in  logic,  fact  mongers  in  science,  colour  enthusi- 
asts in  art,  and  democrats  in  politics.  Wealth  getting  is 
the  best  outlet  for  the  pent-up  energies  that  do  not  find  an 
outlet  in  these  other  fields. 

Rest  ideals  cannot  be  dominant  in  a  society  where 
activity  and  vigour  are  the  first  requisites  of  survival. 
The  gradual  removal  of  the  conditions  of  a  pain  economy 
reduces  the  attractiveness  of  these  ideals,  and  puts  in  their 
place  racial  ideals  that  harmonize  with  our  religious  and 
economic  activities.  Objects  that  inspire  activity  are  more 
concrete  than  those  that  excite  the  senses.  We  are  pleased 
with  colour,  form,  and  other  abstract  qualities,  but  instinc- 
tive action  is  aroused  by  enemies,  lightning,  the  national 
flag,  and  the  sacred  cross.  The  great  essentials  of  the 
environment  alone  inspire  activity.  The  general  and  un- 
essential objects  of  sense  perception  remain  matters  of  in- 
difference. These  conditions  produce,  not  a  socialism  that 
is  cosmopolitan  and  mechanical,  but  a  concrete  society  with 
intense  racial  feelings  and  strong  antipathies. 

The  English  have  not  a  keen  love  of  humanity  at  large, 
but  only  of  that  part  of  humanity  which  belongs  to  their 
own  race ;  and  not  indeed  of  all  that,  for  a  citizen  who  does 
not  live  up  to  race  standards  is  disliked  more  than  a  for- 
eigner. They  respond  only  to  those  definite  principles 
that  have  been  developed  by  the  struggle  through  which 
this  race  has  gone,  and  new  principles  are  added  only  as 
new  struggles  force  a  racial  decision.  These  principles 
are,  therefore,  not  mere  sensory  concepts  that  please  by 
their  exactness ;   they  are  motor  activities  formed  by  the 


376  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

pressure  of  the  environment.  A  society  in  this  form  is 
more  concrete  and  motor  than  socialism,  and  reversion 
from  the  tendencies  that  strengthen  it  is  impossible  so 
long  as  the  economic  conditions  favour  a  further  develop- 
ment of  the  motor  powers. 

A  reversion  from  our  religious  instincts  and  ideals  be- 
comes agnosticism.  Socialism  is  a  like  reversion  from  the 
economic  instincts  that  have  created  recent  progress.  Both 
result  from  an  overdevelopment  of  the  sensory  powers, 
and  would  revive  habits  of  thought  that  have  been  aban- 
doned by  the  active  part  of  the  race.  Since  these  tendencies 
to  revert  are  not  powerful  enough  to  bring  the  race  back 
to  its  earlier  condition,  we  must  look  for  the  characteristic 
features  of  the  coming  epoch  in  the  further  development 
of  the  economic  forces  that  have  made  the  changes  of  the 
last  three  centuries.  Until  these  forces  have  fully  worked 
themselves  out,  and  the  economic  adjustment  has  become 
complete,  subsidiary  tendencies  must  remain  in  abeyance, 
for  they  can  make  no  headway  against  the  elementary 
forces  that  determine  survival. 

From  the  evidence  that  has  been  presented  it  seems  that 
this  adjustment  is  about  half-finished.  The  changes  in 
religion  and  economics  have  been  frequently  pointed  out. 
There  has  also  taken  place  a  marked  transformation  in 
logic  and  psychology.  We  do  not  reason  and  feel  as  our 
ancestors  would  have  done  under  similar  circumstances. 
In  practical  politics  a  like  modification  of  methods  and 
means  is  apparent.  The  motives  of  men  in  public  life, 
and  their  habits  of  thought  on  public  questions,  are  radi- 
cally changed.  Our  amusements  have  also  been  so  modi- 
fied as  to  lose  their  former  sensuality.  The  elevation  of 
women  and  their  freer  entry  into  social  life  have  narrowed 
the  field  in  which  the  contact  of  the  sexes  is  marred  by  a 
sensual  taint.  Many  modes  of  enjoyment  are  now  innocent 
that  in  earlier  times  would  have  been  debauching.     The 


CONCLUDING  EEMARKS  377 

active  sports  of  outdoor  life  have  also  been  adjusted  to 
climatic  conditions.  They  drain  off  the  surplus  vitality, 
which,  when  pent  up,  makes  men  sensual.  Communal  life, 
therefore,  is  not  beset  by  those  perils  which  aroused  the 
opposition  of  the  Puritans. 

Great  as  these  improvements  are,  there  are  man)'-  fields 
in  which  no  modification  of  primitive  standards  has  taken 
place.  Morals  remain  unchanged,  except  in  so  far  as  the 
loss  of  the  feeling  of  the  solidarity  of  responsibility  has 
lessened  the  hold  of  objective  morality.  There  have  been 
no  additions  or  serious  modifications  of  accepted  moral 
principles  by  English  writers.  Ethical  teachers  still  re- 
peat the  old  rules  of  thumb  that  pleased  our  distant  ances- 
tors, and  fail  to  see  that  the  normal  life  of  to-day  demands 
the  pruning  of  dead  formulae.  Literary  men  have  stood 
aloof  from  the  popular  movements  that  have  revolutionized 
England.  The  only  exception  is  the  poetry  of  the  early 
part  of  this  century.  But  this  has  not  been  enough  to 
cure  the  poets  of  that  love  of  reversion  and  of  prophecy 
which  breeds  an  antipathy  to  the  normal  tendencies  of  an 
economic  life.  Artists  are  deracialized  by  their  education 
so  long  as  they  get  their  inspiration  and  ideals  outside 
of  their  native  land.  Doubtless  the  sunnier  clime  and 
bolder  scenery  of  the  South  come  nearer  perfection  than 
those  of  the  duller  North;  but  as  long  as  artists  are 
foreign-hearted,  a  natural  environmental  development  of 
aesthetic  standards  is  hardly  to  be  expected.  We  must 
be  content  to  occupy  a  subordinate  place  in  art  while 
foreign  types  of  character  and  foreign  environments  are 
idealized  in  the  work  of  our  artists.  A  racial  development 
must  take  its  root  in  the  racial  characteristics  and  in  the 
phases  of  nature  with  which  the  race  is  familiar. 

In  English  philosophy  there  is  scarcely  any  vitality. 
Foreign  methods  and  standards  have  completely  super- 
seded the  native  schools  formerly  in  vogue.  In  education 
matters  are  even  worse.    No  class  have  been  more  abject  in 


378  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

their  acceptance  of  foreign  standards,  or  done  more  to  dena- 
tionalize their  students,  than  schoolmasters.  In  theoreti- 
cal politics  and  law  little  real  development  has  taken  place. 
We  have  not  even  generalized  and  coordinated  the  few 
principles  that  were  wrought  out  in  primitive  times.  These 
might  have  sufficed  had  the  race  remained  in  its  earlier 
local  environment ;  but  now  that  it  occupies  the  best  por- 
tions of  the  world,  a  fresh  development  of  political  thought 
is  needed  to  meet  the  complexity  and  diversity  of  the  new 
situation.  On  every  hand  there  is  evidence  that  the  old 
traditions,  precedents,  and  constitutional  limitations  are 
failing  to  work  as  they  should.  That  the  race  is  succeed- 
ing is  not  due  to  its  political  creed,  but  to  the  influence  of 
economic  and  religious  forces.  Upon  an  examination  of 
the  principles  on  which  the  Irish  question  in  England,  or 
the  money  problem  in  America,  is  discussed,  it  can  be 
readily  seen  what  trouble  such  principles  would  cause  if 
they  were  not  held  in  check  by  other  considerations,  and 
yet  these  problems  are  small  in  comparison  with  many  the 
race  must  solve  before  a  readjustment  can  be  made  to 
the  conditions  of  an  enlarged  environment.  Think  of 
the  difficulty  of  governing  half  the  world  on  principles 
that  are  fitted  for  a  country  town! 

The  reader  should  remember  that  by  the  plan  of  this 
discussion  only  internal  evidence  has  been  admitted.  I 
have  confined  myself  to  English  sources  and  facts.  I  have 
made  no  comparison  with  foreign  nations,  nor  any  en- 
deavour to  use  them  as  models  by  which  to  measure  Eng- 
lish social  progress.  It  is  assumed  that  we  are  adjusted 
to  the  present  environment  in  which  great  changes  in 
thought  have  occurred  since  we  entered  it,  and  that  the 
same  forces  will  drive  us  to  make  similar  changes  in  fields 
where  foreign  standards  or  primitive  ideas  still  prevail. 
Yet  so  long  as  colleges  try  to  inspire  higher  ideals  by 
forcing  students  to  learn  Greek,  so  long  as  teachers  of 
ethics   endeavour  to  reform  the  slums  by  instilling  the 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  379 

platitudes  of  ancient  moralists,  so  long  as  novels  incite 
women  to  break  with  home  life,  so  long  as  historians 
persist  in  the  apotheosis  of  the  French  Revolution,  and 
prophets  in  the  prediction  of  social  upheaval  and  degen- 
eration, it  can  hardly  be  said  that  adjustment  to  present 
conditions  is  complete.  If  these  be  permanent  tendencies, 
the  influence  of  the  present  environment  can  never  be 
fully  revealed  in  history. 

The  third  and  last  of  the  epochs  we  have  discussed 
had  its  main  problems  set  by  the  condition  of  the  wheat 
market.  The  upward  movement  in  the  price  of  wheat 
began  about  1757,  and  the  great  fall  in  its  price  began 
in  1873.  The  latter  date  may  be  said  approximately 
to  end  the  epoch.  Not  only  did  the  fall  in  the  price  of 
wheat  begin  at  that  time,  but  there  occurred  also  a  general 
fall  in  prices  that  has  apparently  not  yet  ended.  The  late 
epoch  was  as  a  whole  a  period  of  rising  prices,  and  the 
reasoning  of  the  epoch  was  based  on  the  limitations  of 
the  production  of  food  and  other  raw  materials  by  which 
the  rise  in  prices  was  necessitated.  The  system  of 
economics  associated  with  the  name  of  Ricardo  would 
not  have  developed  but  for  these  limitations  and  their 
effects  on  the  increase  of  population  and  the  progress  of 
society. 

The  present  epoch  is  as  plainly  an  epoch  of  cheapness 
as  that  was  an  epoch  of  dearness.  Then  population  out- 
stripped the  increase  of  food.  The  increase  of  food  now  so 
far  surpasses  the  increase  of  population  that  a  market  for 
food  can  scarcely  be  found.  Then  the  rising  price  of  food 
made  agriculture  prosperous,  and  seriously  cramped  the 
working  population  of  the  towns.  Now  the  farms  are 
being  deserted,  and  the  country  people  are  flocking  to  the 
cities  in  order  to  share  in  their  increased  prosperity. 

Many  of  these  changes  are  due  to  the  fall  in  the  price 
of  sugar.     Its  cheapness  has  so  modified  the  food  supply 


380  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

that  we  can  be  said  to  have  a  sugar  diet  in  the  same 
sense  as  the  eighteenth  century  had  a  bread  diet.  The  in- 
creased cheapness  of  many  articles  of  food  has  opened  up 
almost  unlimited  possibilities  for  a  future  increase  of 
population.  The  plants  from  which  sugar  is  extracted 
are  amazingly  prolific.  Their  production  requires  but 
little  labour,  and  as  they  grow  in  parts  of  the  world  of 
which  but  little  use  has  been  made,  they  do  not  inter- 
fere with  the  production  of  other  food  products  as  did 
the  demand  for  wheat.  When  the  people  of  the  civilized 
world  lived  on  wheat,  they  were  confined  to  a  narrow  belt 
of  land  in  the  temperate  zone.  Now  they  have  practically 
the  whole  world  in  which  to  expand,  and  there  will  not  be 
a  permanent  shortage  in  the  food  supply  until  the  popula- 
tion of  the  world  has  increased  many  fold.  In  the  mean- 
time we  shall  have  a  forced  cheapness  that  will  alter  many 
of  the  essential  facts  in  the  struggle  for  economic  suprem- 
acy. The  change  is  especially  important  to  the  English 
race ;  having  felt  most  severely  the  high  prices  of  the 
earlier  epoch,  they  now  have  an  abnormal  cheapness  forced 
on  them  through  an  uneconomic  competition  by  other 
races.  Cheap  food  and  a  sugar  diet,  therefore,  make  the 
conditions  out  of  which  the  thought  movement  of  the 
present  epoch  will  proceed. 

Liquor  is  necessary  with  plain  food,  especially  when  a 
large  use  is  made  of  vegetables.  Such  food  would  be 
unpalatable  but  for  a  free  use  of  pepper,  salt,  vinegar,  and 
other  condiments ;  it  is  pleasant  only  when  some  liquor  is 
used  as  a  complement.  The  old  diet  was  thus  essentially 
a  liquor  diet,  the  liquor  being  its  main  source  of  pleasure. 
Food  was  prepared  so  as  to  heighten  the  pleasure  of  drink- 
ing, and  the  dishes  that  would  do  this  best  obtained  popu- 
lar favour.  Men  ate  to  drink,  and  did  not  drink,  as  they 
should  have  done,  to  aid  the  assimilation  of  food.  The 
cheapness  of  sugar  now  enables  a  satisfactory  diet  to  be 
obtained  without  the  use  of  alcohol.     The  sweet  dishes 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  381 

are  essential  parts  of  each  meal,  and  about  them  the  other 
foods  are  arranged  just  as  in  earlier  days  they  were  coordi- 
nated with  alcoholic  beverages.  Moreover,  sugared  fruits 
and  sweet  drinks  are  used  to  satisfy  the  thirst  instead  of 
the  sour,  bitter  liquors  of  former  times. 

This  change  has  already  gone  so  far  that  a  large  portion 
of  society  has  adjusted  itself  to  it.  So  long  as  a  liquor  diet 
was  essential,  people  put  up  with  the  many  evils  incident 
to  it  without  much  complaint ;  but  when  it  was  no  longer 
necessary  to  health,  a  reaction  against  its  evils  was  inevi- 
table. The  drinking  man  is  no  longer  the  cheap  man  in  pro- 
duction. A  sugar  diet  is  less  costly  than  a  liquor  diet,  and 
he  who  lives  on  it  has  an  advantage  in  many  branches  of 
production.  The  displacement  of  liquor-drinking  men  is 
going  on  steadily,  and  in  the  end  will  be  so  complete  as 
to  drive  intemperate  men  from  desirable  occupations.  The 
clashing  interests  of  these  two  classes  will  be  a  feature  of 
the  next  century's  development.  We  are  apt  to  look  at 
temperance  problems  from  a  moral  point  of  view.  The 
real  issue,  however,  is  economic,  and  it  will  work  itself 
out  with  little  regard  for  other  considerations.  The  tem- 
perance movement  is  sure  to  grow,  and  temperance  in- 
stincts and  habits  will  be  acquired  by  the  same  economic 
pressure  that  created  the  earlier  psychic  changes  in  the 
race.  Political  and  moral  notions  acquired  in  other  envi- 
ronments will  be  crushed  out  or  modified  to  meet  the 
new  conditions. 

This  change  is,  however,  only  a  phase  of  important 
modifications  in  the  conditions  of  survival.  Progress  is 
determined  by  the  types  of  men  that  are  eliminated. 
Under  past  conditions  this  elimination  has  been  mainly 
due  to  undernutrition,  or,  to  use  simpler  language,  starva- 
tion. When  the  food  supply  is  limited  and  the  increase  of 
population  is  rapid,  the  less  efficient  members  of  society  fail 
to  secure  enough  nutrition  to  keep  themselves  alive.  Where 
death  by  starvation  is  not  the  direct  result  of  the  inability 


382  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

to  secure  food,  the  underfed  are  especially  liable  to  disease. 
When  the  struggle  for  food  ceases  to  be  individual  and 
leads  to  a  conflict  between  tribes  and  races,  the  well  fed 
have  an  advantage  and  usually  force  their  underfed  op- 
ponents to  the  wall.  Famine,  disease,  and  war  thus  lead 
in  the  main  to  the  elimination  of  the  underfed,  and  these 
evils  were  the  great  scourges  of  mankind  in  past  ages 
when  the  food  supply  was  limited.  Progress  has  been 
caused  by  the  evils  of  undernutrition.  The  well  fed  have 
survived ;  their  instincts  and  their  habits  have  created  the 
economic  society  in  which  we  live.  But  conditions  of  this 
kind  are  now  past.  The  English  race  is  well  fed,  the 
diseases  of  poverty  are  fairly  well  under  control,  and  war 
is  now  of  so  little  importance  that  it  has  ceased  to  affect 
the  conditions  of  survival.  We  are  at  a  standstill  and 
would  continue  to  be  so  if  the  evils  of  undernutrition  were 
the  only  causes  of  elimination  and  progress.  They  are  too 
nearly  overcome  to  exert  a  dominant  influence. 

There  are,  however,  many  indications  that  progress  by 
elimination  has  not  ceased,  but  has  only  changed  in  form. 
Formerly  the  underfed  failed  to  survive ;  now  it  is  the  over- 
fed among  whom  the  elimination  is  taking  place.  The 
ideal  of  health  is  to  obtain  complete  nutrition.  Overnutri- 
tion  as  well  as  undernutrition  weakens  the  body  and  sub- 
jects it  to  evils  that  make  it  incapable  of  survival.  The 
plethora  of  food  now  enjoyed  induces  men  to  eat  and 
drink  more  than  their  systems  can  stand.  Temptations  to 
indulgence  are  so  great  that  few  are  able  to  withstand 
them.  There  is  thus  a  reduction  in  vitality  that  leads 
to  disease.  Our  appetites  are  stronger  than  they  need 
be  to  secure  survival  under  present  environing  condi- 
tions. Under  the  old  conditions  the  stronger  the  appe- 
tites the  better,  for  they  created  the  motives  that  led  men 
to  keep  up  the  struggle  for  food.  As  a  whole  the  man 
with  the  keenest  appetite  survived.  Now  this  keen  appe- 
tite is  plainly  a  disadvantage.     A  reduction  of  the  point 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  383 

of  satiety  is  the  only  way  to  restore  the  equilibrium  be- 
tween the  desire  for  food  and  the  needs  of  the  system. 

The  line  of  complete  nutrition  must  be  reached  but 
not  crossed.  When  this  line  is  not  reached,  undernutri- 
tion cuts  in  on  the  lower  edge  of  society  and  raises  its 
level.  When  the  line  is  passed  overnutrition  weeds  out 
the  overfed.  The  latter  condition  cuts  in  on  the  more 
efficient  part  of  society  and  tends  to  lower  its  level.  Just 
as  consumption  in  the  time  of  the  Puritans  took  its  vic- 
tims from  among  the  most  advanced  classes  of  the  nation, 
so  to-day  apoplexy,  heart  failure,  Bright's  disease,  and  other 
diseases  born  of  high  living  check  the  progress  of  those 
classes  in  whom  the  hope  of  civilization  is  centred.  The 
primary  influence  of  overnutrition  is  conservative;  but 
for  its  effects  changes  in  our  instincts,  habits,  and  institu- 
tions would  have  been  more  rapid  than  they  have  been. 
To  speak  concretely,  drunkenness  would  have  lessened 
much  more  rapidly  if  dyspepsia  had  not  proved  so  great  a 
counter  evil. 

Yet  in  the  long  run  the  evils  of  overnutrition  will 
benefit  the  race.  When  all  are  well  fed  the  inactive  man 
suffers  most  from  its  evils,  because  he  does  nothing  to 
work  off  or  to  put  to  use  the  extra  nutrition  he  has  re- 
ceived. An  active  man  is  less  subject  to  the  evils  of  over- 
nutrition  and  can  more  easily  throw  off  its  effects.  The 
inactive  and  stupid  will  be  eliminated  and  the  vigour  of 
the  race  will  be  increased.  Those  stolid,  sensual  constitu- 
tions that  have  been  so  marked  a  characteristic  of  the 
middle  class  of  society  must  gradually  disappear.  The 
dominant  type  will  be  more  nervous  in  temperament  and 
have  an  increased  ability  to  stand  the  strain  and  the  ex- 
citement of  an  active  life. 

In  men  this  change  toward  activity  is  already  partially 
worked  out.  The  effects  of  overnutrition  are  less  appar- 
ent in  them  than  in  women,  among  whom  is  seen  a  reverse 
tendency  toward  inactivity.     Men  have  also  passed  over 


384  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

to  a  sugar  diet  less  completely  than  women.  The  typical 
evils  of  overnutrition  are  therefore  more  clearly  seen 
among  women  than  among  men.  In  the  same  way  that 
we  look  to  men  for  examples  of  dissipation  and  vice,  so 
must  we  look  among  women  for  the  best  examples  of  the 
new  evils  of  overfeeding.  Ease  and  inactivity  do  not 
harmonize  with  the  overnutrition  and  overstimulation  to 
which  women  are  subjected,  and  hence  the  process  of 
elimination  must  work  a  crude  cure  by  cutting  off  those 
who  indulge  too  freely.  When  men  are  eliminated,  it  is 
usually  done  by  some  striking  process.  Dissipation,  war, 
disease,  careless  exposure,  and  other  causes  of  destruction 
attract  attention,  and  excite  horror  or  sympathy.  Until  the 
present  epoch  the  elimination  of  women  has  been  depend- 
ent to  a  large  extent  on  the  fates  of  husbands  and  fathers. 
Women  survived  or  perished  as  their  defenders  succeeded 
or  failed.  Under  these  circumstances  there  could  be  but 
little  modification  in  women.  Men  developed  because  the 
less  fitting  types  perished;  but  the  most  perfect  of  women 
would  fail  if  joined  for  life  with  an  incompetent  man. 
Progress  is  impossible  if  dependent  on  the  accidents  of 
marriage. 

These  conditions  are  now  reversed.  The  overnutrition 
of  women  decreases  their  fertility.  It  is  said  that  all 
female  animals  become  barren  when  overfed.  There  may 
be  some  general  law  that  makes  fertility  depend  on  the 
amount  of  nutrition.  Its  decrease,  however,  may  be  mainly 
due  to  the  overstimulation  and  nervous  excitement  that 
modern  society  forces  upon  women.  In  any  case  the  loss 
of  fertility  is  plain  ;  families  rapidly  die  out  if  they  utilize 
to  the  full  the  advantages  given  by  economic  success. 
It  matters  not,  therefore,  how  efficient  husbands  may  be, 
families  will  not  endure  to  affect  the  future  of  the  race  if 
overnutrition  and  consequent  nervous  disorders  make 
wives  barren.  Women  do  not  often  come  to  violent  ends 
nor  fall   victims   to  low  forms   of   dissipation,  yet  by  a 


CONCLUDING   REMARKS  385 

slow  but  effective  process  they  cause  the  extermination  of 
families. 

Society  must  in  the  future  draw  a  dividing  line  be- 
tween fathers  and  mothers  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
sterile  on  the  other.  The  latter  class,  already  a  promi- 
nent feature  of  our  civilization,  have  instincts  and  feelings 
peculiar  to  themselves.  But  as  they  are  not  an  enduring 
part  of  society,  their  acts  and  feelings  cannot  be  taken  as 
an  indication  of  social  change  or  of  the  development  of 
thought.  What  fathers  and  mothers  think  and  do  affects 
the  history  of  the  race.  The  deeds  and  fancies  of  steriles 
are  of  interest  only  to  themselves.  They  are  easily  ex- 
cited, are  carried  away  by  fads  and  novelties,  and  make 
mountains  out  of  events  that  are  but  mole-hills  to  the 
enduring  part  of  society.  These  racial  suicides  who  are 
free  from  the  permanent  influences  upon  which  survival 
depends,  can  deviate  from  those  conditions  and  rules  of 
conduct  to  which  fathers  and  mothers  must  adhere.  They 
thus  have  short-lived  careers,  often  with  a  temporary  influ- 
ence out  of  all  proportion  to  their  real  importance. 

These  steriles  can  be  most  readily  recognized  by  their 
activity  and  emotions  in  art  and  literature.  Fathers  and 
mothers  have  not  yet  become  artistic,  and  are  too  active 
to  indulge  much  in  novel  reading.  The  taste  of  the 
average  mother  seldom  rises  above  the  level  of  bric-a-brac 
and  chromos,  while  the  father  is  quite  content  with  his 
newspaper.  Modern  literature  and  art  have  made  little 
impression  on  them.  Strong  tendencies  toward  art  are 
shown  in  many  minor  products  associated  with  the  ideas 
of  comfort,  but  these  tendencies  remain  mere  adum- 
brations because  the  developed  products  of  art  have  no 
influence  on  survival.  So  long  as  aesthetic  feelings  are  a 
useless  variation  unconnected  with  the  prominent  motives 
making  men  active  and  vigorous,  only  rudimentary  forms 
of  art  are  possible.  The  natural  growth  of  artistic  senti- 
ments  is   prevented,  just  as  sheep   prevent  the   growth 

2c 


386  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  trees  on  land  fitted  for  forestry.  Long  before  the  Prot- 
estant reformation,  the  sentiments  and  feelings  that  created 
it  were  active.  But  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  and  nuns 
cut  off  in  each  generation  those  in  whom  the  religious 
and  moral  sentiments  were  strongest.  In  consequence 
society  could  not  develop  in  harmony  with  the  tenden- 
cies of  the  age.  A  strong  tendency  may  thus  exist  for 
a  long  period  without  apparent  results.  New  instincts 
acquire  a  social  value  only  by  promoting  ideals  and  stand- 
ards that  excite  activity.  Artistic  tastes  will  not  be  grati- 
fied on  a  large  scale  until  the  utility  of  art  exceeds  its 
cost.  Unartistic  men  control  industrial  organizations,  the 
churches,  and  public  affairs,  because  they  are  more  active, 
and  while  they  are  in  control  churches,  railroad  stations, 
and  public  buildings  will  be  constructed  with  but  little 
regard  to  their  looks.  All  this  would  be  changed  if  artistic 
and  literary  ideals  promoted  activity.  The  men  they  in- 
fluence would  then  control  social  and  industrial  organiza- 
tions and  could  determine  the  form  of  buildings  and  other 
objects,  if  the  net  gain  of  their  activity  to  society  was 
greater  than  the  additional  cost  of  making  their  environ- 
ment pleasing.  Under  present  conditions,  however,  art 
is  associated  with  leisure  and  is  confined  to  galleries  and 
museums,  which  ordinary  people  see  only  on  holidays. 
It  is  thus  sought  chiefly  by  the  inactive  and  overfed, 
who  seek  a  relief  from  monotony  by  sensory  stimulations. 
Pleasures  that  do  not  promote  adjustment  are  detrimental, 
and  those  who  indulge  in  them  are  sure  to  be  eliminated. 
We  are  thus  breeding  against  art  and  not  in  its  favour. 
The  classes  affected  by  it  are  so  differentiated  from  the 
racial  standards  that  they  cease  to  meet  the  conditions 
on  which  survival  depends.  They  become  sterilized  and 
leave  the  world  to  those  who  adhere  more  fully  to  racial 
standards.  Artists  and  writers,  therefore,  are  made  at  the 
present  time  by  education  and  conversion,  but  not  by 
breeding.     So  long  as  this  situation  continues,  there  can 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  387 

be  little  net  progress  in  art.  Each  new  generation  of 
artists  rises  out  of  the  same  inartistic  conditions,  develops 
in  the  same  way,  and  dies  out  by  gradual  extinction. 

The  cause  of  this  seems  to  be  the  sterilizing  effect  of 
art  and  literature  on  women.  The  change  from  the  re- 
stricted environment  of  mothers  to  that  opened  up  by 
literary  and  artistic  ideals  is  too  great  to  be  undergone 
without  danger.  A  race  can  try  the  effects  of  new  meas- 
ures on  men,  for  they  are  capable  of  great  modifications ; 
but  women  cannot  safely  be  experimented  with  in  the 
same  fashion.  Deracializing  influences  act  on  women  as 
dissipation  does  on  men.  These  influences  affect  the 
future  of  the  race  not  by  what  they  do  for  it,  but  by 
the  elements  they  take  out  of  it.  The  elimination  of 
sensual  men,  and  of  women  made  inactive  by  art,  litera- 
ture, and  a  sugar  diet,  are  the  prominent  causes  of  modifi- 
cations in  the  national  character. 

These  changes  will  be  accompanied  by  a  revolution  in 
political  thought  and  activity.  The  irreconcilable  dif- 
ferences that  for  two  centuries  have  kept  the  stalwarts 
apart  from  the  sensualists  and  dingers,  have  enabled  the 
mugwumps  to  govern  the  race  and  to  shape  its  political 
policy.  They  could  place  the  aggressive  parties  against 
each  other,  and  as  no  one  party  was  powerful  enough  to 
dominate  society,  compromises  followed  that  put  the  con- 
trol of  affairs  in  the  hands  of  the  mugwump  minority. 
The  love  of  law  and  order  was  too  strong  to  permit  ex- 
treme measures,  and  the  control  by  a  third  party  seemed 
better  than  the  triumph  of  opponents.  A  series  of  these 
compromises  has  created  the  political  traditions  of  the 
race  and  enabled  our  institutions  to  survive  under  con- 
ditions in  which  they  would  otherwise  have  broken  down. 

But  these  conditions  are  passing  away.  There  has  been 
a  steady  decrease  in  the  relative  numbers  of  sensualists 
and  dingers.    The  latter  class  is  fast  disappearing  and  will 


388  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

doubtless  be  extinct  in  a  couple  of  generations.  One  cause 
of  this  eradication  is  the  gradual  breaking  down  of  the 
local  environments  that  kept  people  true  to  inherited 
traditions.  General  customs  and  habits  are  inimical  to  the 
modes  of  life  that  create  dingers,  and  the  growth  of  indi- 
vidualism has  destroyed  the  personal  loyalty  that  made 
dependents  true  to  their  local  masters.  But  more  impor- 
tant yet  is  the  crushing  force  that  capitalism  and  the 
liquor  interests  have  exerted.  The  employer  exploits 
without  mercy  those  classes  that  are  attached  to  the 
locality  in  which  they  live.  An  open  market  for  labour 
can  be  maintained  only  by  the  labourers  being  willing  to 
move  freely  to  new  regions  for  trifling  differences  in 
wages.  Men  without  local  attachments  and  family  ties 
become  transformed  into  sensualists  on  whom  morality  and 
religion  have  little  hold. 

It  would  thus  seem  that  the  sensualists  are  becoming 
the  dominant  class.  The  power  represented  by  the  liquor 
interests  may  for  a  time  continue  to  control  political  parties 
as  it  does  at  present,  but  the  period  when  this  can  be  done 
will  probably  be  short.  Drinkers,  like  the  dingers,  are 
being  exploited  by  their  masters,  and  the  same  causes  that 
are  crushing  the  dingers  will,  in  the  course  of  time,  crush 
out  the  drinkers.  The  liquors  served  to  the  masses  are 
becoming  poorer  and  stronger;  the  accompanying  vices 
are  less  disguised  and  more  deadly.  The  home  and  the 
saloon  as  types  of  life  are  growing  more  and  more  distinct, 
and  a  combination  of  the  two  is  ever  more  difficult.  Em- 
ployers hesitate  about  placing  drinking  men  in  responsible 
positions,  and  thus  from  a  lack  of  income,  if  for  nothing  else, 
the  latter  are  being  forced  into  social  conditions  that  make 
survival  increasingly  difficult.  And  even  if  the  sensualists 
could  withstand  the  liquor  evils,  the  new  sugar  diet  would 
affect  them  disastrously.  Men  may  overeat  or  overdrink ; 
but  when  the  two  excesses  are  combined,  the  strongest  of 
constitutions  gives  way.     Drinking  men,  to  succeed,  need 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  389 

a  coarse  diet,  scanty  clothes,  and  open  houses.  A  rugged 
man  in  direct  contact  with  nature  can  throw  off  immense 
quantities  of  alcohol,  but  if  he  eats  sweets,  dresses  warmly, 
and  spends  his  time  in  the  close,  bad  air  of  a  saloon,  the 
alcohol  remains  in  the  system  and  works  injury. 

We  are  scarcely  aware  of  the  ways  in  which  drinking 
eliminates  those  to  whom  it  has  become  habitual,  because 
this  class  has  been  recruited  by  different  means  from  out- 
side sources.  In  one  sense  it  is  true  that  our  ancestors 
were  hard  drinkers.  There  was  no  temperance  society  to 
check  the  growth  of  the  habit,  and  nearly  every  one  at 
times  took  more  than  was  good  for  him.  But  the  lack  of 
income  made  these  sprees  only  occasional  indulgences,  and 
life  in  the  open  air  helped  to  throw  off  their  effects.  The 
drunkard  as  we  know  him  is  a  new  phenomenon,  and  we 
must  study  his  chances  of  survival  as  we  find  him  under 
present  conditions.  Occasional  spreeing  attracts  more 
attention  than  hard  drinking,  yet  the  latter  is  more  dan- 
gerous and  greatly  lessens  the  chance  of  survival.  So 
long  as  the  sensualists  have  the  class  of  dingers  from 
which  to  recruit  their  numbers,  it  is  hard  to  determine 
their  enduring  qualities.  It  is  still  harder  where  large 
numbers  of  foreign  emigrants  swell  the  sensualists'  numbers. 
But  for  the  race  as  a  whole  this  source  of  replenishment 
has  been  cut  off  or  soon  will  be.  Then  the  exploita- 
tion now  going  on  among  the  sensualists  will  become 
apparent,  and  their  powers  of  holding  their  own  will  be 
thoroughly  tested. 

It  is  not  probable  that  the  sensualists  can  survive,  even 
if  the  evils  from  which  they  suffer  are  not  increased.  A 
steady  increase  of  these  evils,  and  a  more  pressing  and 
short-sighted  exploitation  by  those  who  profit  from  men's 
appetites,  is  bound  to  come,  and  upon  these  changes  will 
follow  worse  social  conditions  and  a  higher  death-rate. 
Appalling  as  these  evils  are,  and  powerful  as  are  the 
classes  who  support  them,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that 


390  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

we  are  much  nearer  their  end  than  most  people  think. 
Sensualism  cannot  hold  its  own  under  present  economic 
conditions.  It  and  its  supporters  will  collapse  as  soon  as 
the  supply  of  outside  recruits  is  cut  off.  The  race  will 
probably  have  sensualism  well  under  control  by  the  close 
of  the  next  century.  The  campaign  that  has  lasted  for 
centuries  will  thus  come  to  an  end,  and  the  energies  of 
reformers  can  be  devoted  to  other  problems. 

With  two  of  the  social  classes  practically  out  of  the  way, 
the  problem  of  supremacy  and  the  direction  of  social  re- 
form will  depend  upon  the  relative  strength  of  the  stalwarts 
and  mugwumps.  In  a  direct  contest  between  them  there 
can  hardly  be  a  doubt  that  the  stalwarts  will  win.  From 
the  very  conditions  that  create  their  peculiarities  the  mug- 
wumps cannot  become  a  numerous  class.  They  thrive 
only  in  protected  positions  where  they  escape  contact  with 
the  bustle  and  the  struggle  of  the  outside  world.  Direct 
contact  with  nature  demands  a  motor  development  and 
blunts  the  sense  for  fine  distinctions.  The  essentials  for 
survival  and  the  means  of  securing  them  are  usually  so 
plain  that  they  are  readily  recognized  and  soon  become 
instinctive.  Men  of  action  are  stalwarts  in  temperament, 
and  chafe  under  the  restraints  of  fine-spun  distinctions. 
The  man  in  the  field  is  always  in  opposition  to  the  diplo- 
mat in  the  home  office.  Stalwart  principles  control  the 
one  and  mugwump  red  tape  the  other.  A  new  environ- 
ment and  new  situations  to  be  exploited  develop  motor 
vigour ;  a  well-known  environment,  where  all  vital  ques- 
tions have  been  decided,  promotes  sensory  discrimination 
and  a  love  of  details.  Both  classes  of  men  are  neces- 
sary to  high  civilization ;  but  in  periods  of  progress 
men  of  action  must  have  undisputed  control.  No  nation 
can  artificially  increase  the  number  of  protected  positions 
without  endangering  the  conditions  on  which  its  success 
depends. 

It  thus  seems  that  the  stalwarts  will  be  the  dominant 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  391 

element  among  the  progressive  classes  of  the  race.  Mug- 
wump success  at  compromise  has  been  due  to  the  pressure 
of  sensualists  and  dingers  who  did  not  want  change  and 
progress.  As  these  classes  decrease  in  numbers,  the  mug- 
wumps must  fight  their  battles  with  their  own  strength. 
This  they  are  beginning  to  do,  but  even  if  they  are  joined 
by  the  two  non-progressive  classes,  they  cannot  succeed  if 
the  stalwarts  are  united.  At  present  the  stalwarts  fail 
from  lack  of  leaders  and  from  the  fact  that  the  traditions 
of  the  race  are  against  them.  Their  own  standards  are 
not  yet  clearly  enough  defined  to  create  a  unity  of  action. 
They  are  therefore  at  present  only  a  potential  force ;  time 
and  the  trend  of  future  events  will  convert  them  into  a 
controlling  force. 

The  character  of  this  coming  stalwartism  is  clearly  de- 
fined by  the  history  of  the  race.  New  movements  create 
nothing ;  they  only  convert  old  forces  into  some  new  form. 
The  instincts  and  motor  reactions  that  already  exist  do 
not  disappear  or  radically  change  their  manifestation. 
They  simply  operate  in  some  new  direction.  Using  this 
point  of  view,  and  aided  by  the  light  that  the  behaviour  of 
stalwarts  throws  upon  their  probable  future  conduct,  we 
may  venture  on  several  predictions.  The  stalwarts  can 
be  regarded  as  democrats  only  in  so  far  as  we  crudely 
contrast  an  aristocracy  and  a  democracy.  They  are  with 
the  democrats  in  their  opposition  to  any  class  above  them 
and  to  inherited  customs  and  limitations  that  are  supported 
only  by  past  experience.  The  stalwarts  are  equally  op- 
posed, however,  to  any  class  below  them  and  to  all  that 
hold  other  standards  than  those  of  stalwartism.  A  race 
that  has  gone  through  Calvinism  cannot  become  truly  demo- 
cratic. Turn  the  attention  of  men  with  this  spirit  toward 
social  affairs,  and  they  at  once  arouse  an  opposition  be- 
tween themselves  and  some  integral  portion  of  the  commun- 
ity that  does  not  adhere  to  their  standards.  There  will 
always  be  somebody  to  favour  and  somebody  to  exclude. 


392  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

The  old  contrast  of  the  elect  and  the  damned  becomes  in 
social  life  an  opposition  between  the  standardful  and  the 
standardless.  This  contrast  transforms  society  into  a 
sociocracy  in  which  character  is  a  criterion  of  citizenship. 
A  man  is  not  a  man  until  he  is  something  more  than 
Mandeville's  objective  unit  of  flesh,  bones,  and  passions. 

The  stalwarts  will  also  exalt  women  and  accept  their 
standards.  They  are  domestic,  and  will  show  to  an  in- 
creasing degree  the  effects  of  the  steady  pressure  that 
mothers  are  exerting  on  society.  Manly  men  are  still 
unreconciled  to  the  trend  of  our  civilization,  and  if  they 
marry,  seldom  make  choices  that  perpetuate  the  race. 
The  happy  unions  are  between  the  domestic  man  and  the 
womanly  woman.  By  this  tendency  the  standards  and 
ideals  of  the  race  are  forced  to  become  less  manly  and 
more  womanly.  The  qualities  that  have  been  recognized 
as  peculiar  to  woman,  or  more  especially  to  mothers,  are 
becoming  racial.  Rugged  independence  and  marriages 
dictated  by  fancy  reduce  the  chances  of  survival.  It  must 
not  be  assumed,  however,  that  these  changes  will  force 
women  to  enter  into  economic  life  more  fully  than  at 
present.  As  a  whole,  the  womanly  woman  is  becoming 
less  instead  of  more  economic.  The  real  lesson  of  our 
progress  is  that  happy  unions  are  formed  by  making  men 
more  willing  to  give  rather  than  by  making  women  more 
capable  of  earning.  Family  life  demands  either  a  psychic 
change  in  men  or  a  physical  change  in  women,  and  thus 
far  history  has  shown  that  it  is  easier  to  make  the  former 
change  than  the  latter.  The  same  tendencies  will  doubt- 
less continue  at  least  in  the  immediate  future,  making 
husbands  more  subservient  and  wives  less  economic. 

The  success  of  the  stalwarts  will  weaken  the  force  of 
constitutional  limitations  and  race  traditions.  Loving 
the  ideals  and  standards  that  express  the  needs  of  to-day 
stalwarts  decide  what  is  right  by  appeals  to  their  own 
feelings,  and  distrust  objective  standards  which  are  out 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  393 

of  harmony  with  the  aspirations  and  ideals  they  cherish. 
They  are  easily  moved  by  definite  programmes  that  can  be 
expressed  in  forceful  maxims,  or  readily  visualized  as 
ideals.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  territorial  ex- 
pansion, a  world  supremacy  of  the  race,  a  forceful  applica- 
tion of  racial  concepts  of  industry  and  political  rights  to 
inferior  races,  strong  antipathies  to  all  who  fall  below  or 
differ  from  accepted  social  standards,  the  subjection  of 
husbands,  total  abstinence,  fixed  standards  of  wages  and 
comfort,  the  diffusion  of  wealth,  and  the  racializing  of 
education.  In  what  direction  stalwart  energies  will  be 
turned  is  yet  to  be  determined  by  the  course  of  events ; 
but  that  many  of  these  ideals  will  be  realized  during  the 
coming  century,  or  at  least  struggled  for,  is  hardly  open  to 
doubt.  The  modifying  forces,  if  any  there  be,  must  come 
from  some  other  quarter.  The  past  conditions  of  the  race 
have  made  the  psychic  qualities  of  the  stalwarts  too  defi- 
nite to  be  changed  much  by  any  internal  development. 

Curves  of  thought  have  their  origin  in  the  opposition 
between  inherited  tendencies  and  the  tendencies  a  new 
epoch  is  creating.  Men  in  whom  old  tendencies  are  domi- 
nant revert  toward  primitive  forms  and  ideas,  while  those 
in  whom  they  are  weak  readily  accept  new  conditions,  and 
out  of  their  concrete  manifestations  develop  forms  and 
ideas  that  harmonize  with  the  new  environment.  The 
downward  curves  of  thought  represent  the  struggle  of  the 
stock  ideas  and  motor  reactions  to  impress  themselves  on 
the  new  social  conditions ;  the  upward  curves  represent 
the  endeavour  of  the  new  environing  conditions  to  control 
society. 

The  past  struggles  of  the  race  have  been  the  result  of 
the  downward  curves  of  religious  thought  and  the  upward 
curves  due  to  new  economic  conditions.  These  struggles 
have  now  ceased.  The  economic  and  religious  tendencies 
are  practically  the  same,  and  in  the  future  they  will  to- 


394  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

gether  make  the  upward  curve  from  the  concrete  toward 
the  abstract  and  philosophical.  Religion  is  no  longer 
made  active  by  the  stock  motor  reactions  that  have  come 
from  the  distant  past.  The  change  from  objective  to  sub- 
jective standards  has  given  it  intenser  modes  of  manifes- 
tation, but  it  has  destroyed  the  connection  with  reactions 
excited  only  by  objective  sensory  means.  The  primitive 
type  of  mind  as  it  survives  to-day  is  analytic,  realistic,  and 
rational;  it  holds  tenaciously  to  objective  standards,  and 
dislikes  ideals,  impulses,  enthusiasm,  and  other  subjective 
phenomena  that  have  been  ground  into  the  race  by  the 
later  economic  and  religious  development. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  fairer  to  call  the  older  objective 
mode  of  thought  the  manly,  and  the  newer  subjective 
impulses  the  womanly.  The  manly  man  suffers  from 
having  his  impulses  associated  with  dissipation.  The 
long,  bitter  struggle  for  the  supremacy  of  the  home  has 
compelled  the  race  to  oppose  every  symptom  of  other  ten- 
dencies. Manly  men  have  not  liked  these  restraints  ; 
they  have,  therefore,  been  forced  into  open  opposition  to 
society,  or,  if  they  have  nominally  acquiesced  in  social 
standards,  they  have  not  made  marriages  that  tended  to 
perpetuate  their  kind.  The  man  of  this  type  carries  in 
him  the  primitive  characteristics  of  the  race  in  so  far  as 
they  have  survived.  The  domestic  man  is  a  product  of 
the  last  three  centuries,  and  in  him  the  earlier  traits  of 
the  race  have  been  lost,  or  have  by  conversion  been  put 
to  new  uses.  We  cannot,  therefore,  look  to  the  domestic 
man  for  any  reversion  that  would  be  the  starting-point  of 
a  downward  curve  of  thought. 

The  marked  traits  of  the  more  primitive  manly  man 
are  his  objective  standards  and  his  realistic  habits  of 
thought.  He  is  an  observer,  and  not  a  visualizer.  He 
takes  his  start  from  sensory  facts  and  uses  them  as  prem- 
ises in  reasoning.  He  has  as  a  result  become  analytic, 
rational,  and  finally  agnostic.     There   are  other   forms, 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  395 

however,  in  which  the  same  traits  show  themselves,  some 
of  which  are  so  antagonistic  that  they  seem  to  reveal 
another  type  of  man.  They  are,  however,  at  bottom  simi- 
lar, the  differences  being  due  to  the  kind  of  reversion  that 
has  taken  place.  When  the  manly  man  is  active  in  reli- 
gion, he  emphasizes  objective  morality,  and  loves  the  his- 
torical and  the  ritualistic.  If  he  enters  politics,  he  holds 
tenaciously  to  the  legal,  the  constitutional,  and  the  tradi- 
tional. He  is  a  realist  in  art  or  literature,  wants  nothing 
but  facts  and  statistics  if  he  becomes  an  economist,  and  is 
rational  and  sceptical  in  philosophy.  All  these  standards 
are  plainly  objective,  and  are  attractive  to  men  of  whom 
a  sensory  development  has  made  good  observers.  We 
must  expect  them  to  struggle  for  forms  of  thought  in 
harmony  with  their  dominant  traits,  and  in  so  doing  they 
will  create  the  downward  curve  of  the  present  epoch. 

The  main  course  of  this  new  curve  will  probably  lie 
in  art  and  literature.  Formerly  the  tendencies  to  revert 
showed  themselves  in  religious  thought.  Now  success- 
ful preachers  are  men  of  a  normal  type,  and  their  ser- 
mons are  plain  statements  of  the  utilitarian  motives  for 
good  conduct.  The  prophets  have  gone  over  to  litera- 
ture, and  with  them  are  all  in  whom  tendencies  to  revert 
have  made  primitive  ideas  dominant.  A  more  chaotic 
aggregate  of  instincts,  ideas,  and  motives  could  hardly 
be  imagined  than  those  that  are  now  pushed  to  the 
front  under  the  guise  of  literature  and  art.  Into  these 
fields  the  discontented  manly  men  are  most  inclined  to 
enter,  and  here  their  inclinations  have  freest  scope.  It 
is  also  possible  for  them  to  oppose  popular  tendencies 
more  efficiently  here  than  elsewhere.  They  have  the 
ear  of  the  public,  and  can  present  the  objective  realistic 
elements  of  life  in  their  most  attractive  form. 

In  the  opposing  or  upward  curve  of  thought  are  the 
united  religious  and  economic  tendencies  that  are  now 
making  their  influence  felt  in  the  form  of  modern  stal- 


396  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

wartism.  They  represent  the  economic,  the  womanly, 
the  subjective,  and  the  ideal.  Activity  and  enthusiasm 
will  be  their  leading  characteristics,  and  these  will 
naturally  manifest  themselves  in  the  pursuit  of  bold 
ideals.  Definite  concrete  social  standards  will  be  put 
forward,  and,  if  adopted,  will  create  a  crushing  dis- 
ability to  all  who  deviate  from  them.  If  these  ten- 
dencies show  themselves  in  literature  and  art,  they  will 
be  so  idealistic  as  to  seem  unreal  to  those  who  accept 
objective  standards  and  love  to  picture  matters  of  fact. 
There  are  few  limits  to  the  fancy  of  those  who  accept 
subjective  standards  and  have  marked  powers  of  visu- 
alization.   • 

We  are  not  entirely  in  the  dark  as  to  the  forms  these 
curves  will  assume,  for  in  the  past  epoch  there  were 
strong  tendencies  toward  creating  them.  Carlyle  and 
Ruskin  had  the  instincts  that  would  have  created  a 
downward  curve  of  thought  if  the  situation  had  been 
favourable.  The  forward  movement  on  a  new  curve 
of  thought  was  cut  short  by  the  French  Revolution  of 
1848.  English  thinkers  of  all  kinds  were  upset  by  this 
event,  which  brought  about  a  reversion  that  made  their 
subsequent  writings  of  little  permanent  interest.  De- 
fective and  short-lived  as  this  curve  was,  it  enables  us 
to  see  quite  clearly  its  natural  direction,  which  an  exami- 
nation of  subsequent  writers  tends  to  verify. 

The  manly  man  with  his  realistic  tendencies  will  do 
his  best  work,  not  in  literature  or  art,  but  in  economic 
reform.  Starting  in  one  of  the  former,  he  tends  toward 
the  latter.  He  carries  the  methods,  spirit,  and  modes  of 
thought  that  have  been  acquired  in  the  one  field  over 
into  the  other,  and  thus  is  able  to  do  what  those 
in  the  economic  field  have  not  the  inclination  nor  the 
motive  to  do.  The  failure  of  the  educated  economists 
to  create  reforms  in  their  own  field  is  due  to  the  fact 
that  they  are  too  much  taken  up  with  details  to  see  the 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  397 

general  principles  upon  which  reform  depends.  A  man 
with  a  strong  will,  but  with  little  knowledge  of  facts, 
is  more  likely  to  succeed.  Since  economic  reform  has 
lagged  far  behind  the  possibilities  of  improved  produc- 
tion, it  matters  less  what  reform  is  instituted  than  that 
the  scheme  entered  upon  should  be  strictly  adhered  to 
and  faithfully  carried  out.  Reform  is,  therefore,  more 
a  matter  of  will  than  of  knowledge.  A  man  with  cour- 
age and  decision  has  great  advantages  over  the  economic 
scholar,  who  is  trammelled  by  tradition  and  an  unwill- 
ingness to  break  through  social  restraints.  Abortive  as 
were  the  efforts  of  Carlyle  and  Ruskin  to  realize  their 
ideals  of  reform,  they  still  represent  the  type  of  men 
from  whom  reforms  will  come.  The  near  future  will 
probably  see  a  downward  curve  of  thought  created  by 
men  of  their  class  that  will  do  for  economics  what 
Wesley's  ideas  did  for  religion. 

The  upward  or  reverse  curve  will  be  from  economics  to 
literature.  There  was  a  period  in  Mill's  career  when  his 
wife's  influence  carried  him  far  over  into  the  field  of  art 
and  literature.  Had  his  book  on  socialism  been  com- 
pleted, some  of  these  literary  tendencies  might  have  been 
realized,  or  at  least  carried  far  enough  to  enable  us  to  see 
the  direction  in  which  his  thought  was  moving.  Al- 
though this  development  was  cut  short,  some  of  his  disci- 
ples have  done  work  that  helps  us  to  see  what  Mill  might 
have  done.  Perhaps  the  writings  of  Henry  George  best 
show  the  literary  and  idealistic  tendencies  at  work  in  econ- 
omists, whose  curve  of  thought  is  upward.  Bellamy's 
Looking  Backward  belongs  to  the  same  class,  as  do  also 
the  works  of  literary  men  who  began  as  journalists.  De- 
foe could  not  have  written  Robinson  Crusoe  if  he  had  not 
brought  to  that  work  a  ready  knowledge  of  economic  facts 
acquired  in  his  earlier  work.  All  these  writers  agree  in 
idealizing  the  concrete  facts  of  every-day  life  and  in  set- 
ting up  clear  motives  for  activity.     Whether  these  books 


398  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

be  accepted  as  literary  and  artistic  productions,  matters 
but  little.  Their  main  value  lies  in  the  curve  of  thought 
they  reveal.  Sooner  or  later  men  with  stalwart  instincts 
and  education  will  break  over  the  line  that  separates  eco- 
nomics from  literature  and  art,  and  then  a  new  movement 
in  these  fields  will  begin  that  can  end  only  in  their  trans- 
formation. Bold  vivid  ideals  and  visions  of  a  future  Uto- 
pia are  sure  finally  to  assume  a  literary  form  and  to  create 
pictures  that  can  be  made  objective  only  in  art.  Milton 
and  Bunyan  have  shown  what  stalwarts  can  do  by  visual- 
izing. We  are  approaching  a  time  when  this  spirit  will 
have  freer  scope,  and  then  we  should  have  works  of 
greater  boldness  and  imagination  than  any  that  modern 
literature  and  art  have  so  far  given  us. 

In  the  epochs  we  have  discussed  English  literature  and 
art  have  not  realized  their  possibilities  because  one  set  of 
men  have  had  the  literary  and  artistic  taste,  and  another 
the  imagination  and  power  of  visualization.  The  realistic 
and  the  ideal  tendencies  have  been  seldom  united  in  the 
same  person.  This  defect  will  be  remedied  if  the  curves 
of  thought  of  the  present  epoch  force  the  realist  into  eco- 
nomics and  the  visualizer  into  literature  and  art.  These 
latter  will  then  lose  their  foreign  taint,  and  the  blending 
of  the  two  types  of  men  that  will  follow  the  transference 
of  their  respective  fields  will  secure  better  results  both  in 
reform  and  in  art.  The  present  epoch  may  thus  end  the 
struggle  that  has  been  going  on  for  centuries  between 
the  environmental  and  the  inherited  instincts,  and  give 
the  race  an  adjustment  that  will  enable  it  to  realize  its 
highest  ideals. 

Natural  theologians  have  in  the  past  put  the  emphasis 
of  their  arguments  on  the  nature  and  the  essence  of  God, 
and  have  felt  satisfied  if  these  concepts  have  been  made 
secure.  Their  assumptions  once  granted,  a  rigid  train  of 
reasoning  proves  all  the  desired  corollaries.     Theologians 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  399 

are  thus  induced  to  stake  everything  on  their  premises. 
If  they  prove  God  to  be  an  essence  and  the  cause  of  nat- 
ure, there  is  no  need  of  resorting  to  the  less  obvious  evi- 
dence gained  by  experience.  I  do  not  wish  to  disparage 
these  bold  deductions,  yet  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
type  of  thinking  on  which  they  depend  is  becoming  for- 
eign to  the  English  mind.  The  native  philosophy  by 
which  these  doctrines  were  upheld  has  completely  broken 
down,  and  the  German  philosophy  to  which  recent  think- 
ers have  resorted  has  not  made  much  headway  against 
the  obstacles  that  foreign  thought  must  always  encounter. 
As  the  student  can  get  the  standpoint  of  foreign  thought 
only  by  a  drill  that  isolates  him  from  his  natural  environ- 
ment, he  is  rendered  incapable  of  exerting  an  influence  on 
the  race  of  which  he  should  be  an  integral  part. 

Another  disadvantage  is  that  the  natural  theologian's 
concept  of  God  is  not  one  about  which  there  is  much  con' 
troversy.  God  as  Nature  is  a  well-established  racial  ideal. 
If  it  is  admitted  that  God  always  acts  in  harmony  with 
Nature's  laws,  the  doctrine  that  He  is  the  cause  of  Nature 
is  not  of  so  much  importance  as  it  might  seem.  The 
source  of  Nature's  laws  is  less  important  than  the  way 
they  act.  If  they  are  never  modified  for  the  advantage 
of  the  life  they  support,  the  field  of  ultimate  causes  is  of 
little  moment  to  beings  interested  in  particular  events. 
Under  these  conditions  it  is  of  more  importance  that  God 
is  the  Father  of  all  life  than  that  He  is  its  cause. 

The  laws  of  the  relations  of  life  to  life  furnish  evidence 
of  what  the  conditions  are  upon  which  permanent  life 
depends.  We  know  that  life  is  preserved  and  modified 
by  life.  We  can  also  affirm  that  life  is  elevated  by  the 
sacrifice  of  life.  There  is  also  an  equally  plain  sacrifice 
of  higher  for  lower  life  showing  itself  in  every  advanced 
society.  The  best  of  our  kind  live  on  after  death  in  the 
influence  they  have  upon  those  more  imperfect  than  them- 
selves.    If  the  sacrifice  of  the  lower  life  for  the  higher  is 


400  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

evolution,  the  sacrifice  of  the  higher  for  the  lower  is  in- 
carnation. This  principle,  which  is  always  active,  might 
be  called  the  teacher's  ideal,  for  it  is  revealed  most 
clearly  and  generally  in  the  instruction  of  the  young. 
Parents  try  to  put  themselves  on  a  level  with  their  chil- 
dren, and  to  assume  characters  and  modes  of  thought  in 
harmony  with  those  they  would  elevate.  The  teacher 
becomes  a  child  in  order  to  make  of  his  pupil  a  man  like 
himself.  The  more  successful  the  reversion,  the  surer  is 
the  child's  development.  That  a  reversion  from  the  com- 
plex to  the  simpler  forms  and  modes  of  thought  is  the 
surest  means  of  elevating  the  low  is  a  general  principle 
showing  itself  wherever  higher  life  comes  in  contact  with 
lower  life.  Throughout  the  social  world  there  is  a  sac- 
rifice of  the  higher  for  the  lower,  and  of  the  lower  for  the 
higher,  giving  as  a  result  a  far  more  rapid  development 
of  the  enduring  part  of  society  than  could  be  obtained  by 
any  other  process. 

Natural  theologians  have  looked  on  the  incarnation  of 
Christ  as  an  event  outside  the  pale  of  natural  religion. 
They  reasoned  that  if  the  incarnation  is  a  fact,  it  must 
be  proved  by  miracles  or  other  events  that  violate  the 
natural  law  on  which  they  based  their  proof  of  the  being 
and  essence  of  God.  They  were  thus  inclined  to  doubt  the 
historical  facts  on  which  Christianity  is  based,  and  many 
of  them  were  content  to  remain  mere  deists.  And  yet,  if 
we  accept  a  social  point  of  view,  there  is  nothing  more 
natural  than  the  principle  upon  which  the  incarnation 
is  based.  It  might  well  be  called  the  first  principle  of 
natural  religion,  for  a  tendency  toward  incarnation  is 
manifest  in  all  forms  of  life.  If  that  tendency  were 
absent,  it  is  doubtful  if  the  elimination  of  the  unfit  could 
do  much  to  elevate  life  and  to  mould  it  into  better  forms. 
Christ  is  a  complete  realization  of  an  ideal  toward  which 
higher  life  is  striving.  We  have,  therefore,  plainer  evi- 
dence of  His  reality  than  of  doctrines  about  the  essence 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  401 

of  God.  Motives  felt  by  all  life  and  tendencies  showing 
themselves  in  all  societies  must  be  a  part  of  God's  nature 
and  must  manifest  themselves  in  His  dealings  with  men. 

Miracles  are  not  independent  evidence  of  Christ's  divinity. 
They  are  verifications  of  a  principle,  the  basis  of  which 
is  found  in  every  being.  Hume's  famous  argument 
against  miracles  would  not  now  be  accepted.  The  course 
of  nature  as  shown  by  past  experience  gives  no  absolute 
assurance  that  a  future  event  may  not  follow  a  law  hitherto 
unknown.  The  new  event  as  well  as  those  of  the  past  must 
be  considered  in  determining  the  laws  of  nature.  Reason- 
ing, though  based  on  the  known,  extends  somewhat  into 
the  unknown.  There  is  always  the  possibility  that  new 
facts  may  overthrow  or  modify  previous  inductions.  Eng- 
lish thought  has,  therefore,  become  sceptical  of  universal 
propositions.  Within  the  realm  of  logic  the  inductive  can- 
ons are  given  increasing  weight,  and  these  are  grounded 
on  the  theory  of  probability.  There  can  never  be,  how- 
ever, two  probabilities.  One  or  the  other  is  excluded  by 
the  conditions  of  the  case.  When  a  probability  has  been 
established,  we  assent  to  it  and  act  on  it. 

Reasoning  belongs  to  the  sensory  side  of  the  mind  and 
is  based  on  sensory  distinctions.  It  can  establish  proba- 
bilities, but  nothing  more.  Assent  is  motor;  it  is  that 
which  changes  a  judgment  into  activity.  A  conviction 
is  not  a  certainty,  but  something  that  provokes  activity. 
A  judgment  cannot  cause  habitual  activity  unless  it  har- 
monizes with  the  conditions  of  the  environment.  Bad 
judgments  in  the  end  eliminate  the  person  who  acts  on 
them.  Thus  activity  puts  a  probability  to  the  test,  and 
if  the  test  stands,  the  habitual  assent  to  it  becomes  a 
conviction.  In  this  way  our  firm  beliefs  are  based  on  a 
union  of  sensory  and  motor  evidence.  The  sensory  facts 
establish  a  probability ;  the  motor  response  creates  habit- 
ual activity. 

While  there  may  be  a  multitude  of  sensory  states  due 
2d 


402  DEVELOPMENT   OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

to  different  degrees  of  probability,  only  four  motor  ten- 
dencies can  result  from  them,  —  doubt,  suspense,  presump- 
tion, and  assent.  There  is  doubt  when  the  probability  is 
against  the  assumed  fact ;  there  is  suspense  when  the 
evidence  is  well  balanced ;  there  is  a  presumption  when 
a  given  result  would  harmonize  with  the  laws  to  which 
similar  objects  are  known  to  conform;  there  is  assent 
when  the  result  would  follow  from  what  we  know  of  the 
object  in  question.  Belief  is  the  union  of  presumption 
and  probability. 

We  cannot  go  beyond  assent  and  belief,  because  habit- 
ual activity  is  the  only  direct  test  to  which  a  judgment 
can  be  put.  Men  in  action  do  not  wait  for  absolute  proof 
to  justify  their  acts.  They  have  before  them  a  series  of 
events  and  facts  which  they  treat  according  to  the  partial 
evidence  of  them  that  they  possess.  Their  convictions, 
being  due  to  activity,  become  fully  formed  when  a  clear 
probability  appears.  The  needs  of  activity  have  thus 
formed  the  axioms  of  thought,  and  in  every  judgment 
relating  to  the  concrete  environment  in  which  instinctive 
action  is  demanded  have  given  to  a  probability  the  weight 
and  position  of  a  reality. 

The  probable  is  thus  the  real  in  local  conditions.  A 
broader  axiom,  however,  applies  to  the  general  conditions 
of  the  universe  which  are  superenvironmental.1  If  the 
limitations  of  time  and  space  are  withdrawn,  the  possible 
becomes  the  probable,  and  hence  the  possible  becomes  the 
real.  It  is,  for  example,  improbable  that  a  given  planet 
in  another  solar  system  should  have  rings  like  Saturn,  but 

1  The  reader  should  remember  that  in  the  sense  I  have  used  the  term, 
the  environment  is  concrete,  made  up  of  the  aggregates  of  matter  and 
force  that  condition  particular  forms  of  life.  Not  all  nature,  but  definite 
parts  of  it,  environ  life  in  given  regions.  The  seen  and  the  known  are 
only  concrete  forms  of  nature.  They  do  not  reveal  its  general  condition. 
The  superenvironmental  is  limited  only  by  the  possible.  It  is  not  the 
supernatural,  but  the  fully  natural.  Any  environment  must  be,  to  some 
degree,  abnormal  when  viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  Nature's  possibilities. 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  403 

it  is  probable  that  there  are  planets  with  rings.  So,  also, 
it  is  improbable  that  a  given  fixed  star  should  be  a  double 
sun,  but  it  is  probable  that  there  are  double  suns  in  the 
unexplored  regions  of  space.  In  the  whole  universe,  with- 
in all  the  time  it  has  existed,  every  possible  combination 
of  matter  has  doubtless  taken  place.  On  the  theory  of 
probability  even  the  slightest  possibility  will  in  time 
become  an  actuality.  The  universe  has  had  the  time  and 
the  conditions  necessary  for  the  realization  of  all  its  pos- 
sibilities, and  we  must  suppose  each  of  them  to  have 
become  somewhere  and  at  some  time  a  reality.  There 
can,  therefore,  be  no  valid  objection  urged  to  a  given 
combination  except  that  it  is  impossible.  The  possible 
thus  becomes  in  the  universe  at  large  the  probable,  and 
hence  by  an  axiom  of  thought  the  real. 

Under  the  old  concept  of  life  this  axiom  would  not 
hold.  It  was  assumed  that  the  different  forms  of  life 
were  created  by  a  fiat,  and  that  changes  from  one  form  to 
another  were  impossible.  If,  therefore,  a  given  form  of 
life  did  not  exist  at  the  beginning,  it  could  not  come  into 
being  later.  Under  these  conditions  the  existence  of  a 
given  form  of  life  could  be  proved  only  by  experience, 
and  the  absence  of  direct  evidence  would  be  a  justification 
for  doubting  its  reality.  This  presumption  against  un- 
known forms  of  life  is  destroyed  by  the  new  concept 
introduced  by  Darwin.  If  life  is  sustained  and  modified 
by  life,  given  forms  of  life  can  be  altered  into  any  possible 
form.  We  can,  therefore,  say  of  unknown  forms  of  life, 
as  of  combinations  of  matter  and  force,  that  in  the  uni- 
verse at  large  the  possible  is  the  probable,  and  hence  the 
real.  If  permanent  life  is  possible,  we  have  a  right  to 
affirm  that  it  is  a  reality.  Concrete  objections  to  the 
scheme  of  natural  religion  have  no  weight  unless  the 
person  advancing  them  wishes  to  make  some  particular 
form  of  life,  or  combination  of  matter,  a  part  of  the  neces- 
sary construction  of  the  universe.     In  this  case  he  must 


404  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

prove  that  by  direct  evidence  his  particular  scheme  is 
probable. 

The  laws  of  reason  do  not  treat  of  mere  possibilities, 
and  hence  they  need  a  supplement  which  can  be  deduced 
from  the  general  conditions  of  the  economic  world.  Adam 
Smith  long  ago  showed  how  peace  might  be  secured  by  an 
appeal  to  economic  motives.  The  division  of  labour  so 
increases  man's  productive  power  that  every  one  has  a 
direct  interest  in  the  welfare  of  all  those  with  whom  he 
makes  exchanges.  In  old  times  it  was  assumed  that  the 
interests  of  nations  and  traders  were  opposed,  and  that 
each  was  aided  by  the  misfortunes  of  others.  The  new 
doctrines  advanced  by  Adam  Smith  disproved  this  as- 
sumption and  created  an  ever-strengthening  bond  between 
nations  and  individuals. 

Dean  Tucker  presented  an  equally  forcible  argument 
showing  the  benefits  of  capital,  which  I  shall  restate  to 
show  its  bearing  on  national  religion.  The  use  of  capital 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  a  quantity  of  work  done  in  a  series 
of  days  is  more  productive  than  if  completed  at  one  time. 
If  men  wait  until  they  are  hungry  before  seeking  to 
supply  their  wants,  their  food  is  limited  to  the  fish,  berries, 
or  wild  game  in  their  locality.  To  live  in  this  way  a  few 
people  must  have  an  immense  tract  of  land.  A  series  of 
efforts  extending  over  a  period  of  three  months  allows  the 
production  of  a  crop  of  wheat  by  which  a  much  larger 
number  of  people  can  be  supported.  Another  series  of 
efforts  on  iron  and  coal  gives  these  people  tools  ;  a  third, 
in  clay  banks  and  forests,  enables  them  to  build  houses, 
and  still  another  in  cotton  fields  furnishes  them  with 
clothing.  The  longer  and  more  diverse  these  series  be- 
come, the  better  are  the  wants  of  men  supplied  and  the 
greater  the  number  of  people  a  given  region  can  support. 
The  change  in  each  of  these  cases  is  produced  by  a  series 
of  efforts,  without  which  no  transformation  of  products 
is  possible.     The  attention  of  observers  is  usually  concen- 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  405 

trated  on  the  capital  because  by  its  use  the  necessary 
exchanges  are  made  through  which  the  results  of  each 
day's  work  are  carried  over  to  the  next.  A  reaper,  how- 
ever, represents  only  a  partially  made  loaf  of  bread,  and  a 
loom  but  a  half-made  coat.  Society  has  determined  to 
make  bread  and  coats  in  the  best  way,  and  the  work  has 
gone  far  enough  to  produce  a  reaper  and  a  loom. 

Our  prime  interest,  however,  is  not  in  the  capital  but  in 
the  psychic  changes  that  its  use  makes  in  men.  Certain 
qualities  are  demanded,  and  those  who  do  not  have  them 
will  be  eliminated.  The  necessary  qualities  will  thus  be 
thoroughly  inculcated  in  the  surviving  element  of  society. 
There  must  be  a  confidence  in  the  unseen.  The  end  of  a 
long  process,  or  even  its  pressing  need,  is  not  seen  or  felt 
when  it  is  begun.  No  one  can  complete  such  a  process  by 
himself.  He  must  have  faith  in  other  people,  and  they 
must  have  confidence  in  him.  There  must  also  be  a  high 
estimate  of  future  welfare.  Devotees  to  present  happi- 
ness will  not  take  the  time  from  present  enjoyments  to 
prepare  for  the  future.  The  use  of  capital  also  inspires 
hope.  A  pessimistic  man  will  not  risk  his  goods  in  the 
uncertainties  that  production  involves.  He  is,  therefore, 
displaced  by  men  of  a  more  sanguine  temperament,  who 
have  faith  in  the  possibilities  by  which  nature  educates 
men.  All  these  qualities,  strengthened  by  the  use  of 
capital,  become  race  qualities  by  the  steady  pressure  that 
capital  exerts. 

When  the  increase  of  productive  power  has  given  an 
abundant  supply  of  commodities,  a  third  class  of  economic 
motives  still  further  modify  the  characters  of  men.  So 
long  as  the  great  evils  with  which  men  had  to  contend 
were  due  to  undernutrition,  a  selfish  man  had  an  advan- 
tage over  unselfish  men.  The  more  he  concentrated  his 
efforts  on  himself  and  his  immediate  interests,  the  more 
likely  was  he  to  obtain  the  needed  means  of  support. 
Change,  however,  the  condition  of  society  by  an  increase 


406  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

of  its  productive  power,  and  this  selfishness  becomes  a 
source  of  danger.  An  abundance  of  goods  makes  over- 
nutrition  the  great  social  evil.  Those  are  now  eliminated 
who  centre  their  efforts  too  much  on  themselves.  If 
three-fourths  of  a  working-man's  income  will  suffice  to 
give  him  complete  nutrition,  and  he  uses  his  whole  in- 
come for  self-gratification,  overnutrition  will  weaken  and 
in  the  end  destroy  him.  With  the  increase  of  productive 
power  there  is  but  one  way  by  which  men  can  maintain 
their  vigour.  They  must  gradually  add  to  the  time  they 
devote  to  the  welfare  of  other  people.  A  law  of  increas- 
ing altruism  is  thus  involved  in  the  increase  of  productive 
power.  The  same  conditions  promote  activity  and  in- 
crease vigour.  The  inactive  cannot  throw  off  the  effects 
of  overnutrition  so  well  as  the  active,  and  are  under 
greater  temptations.  The  selfish  do-nothings  who  seek 
for  stimulation  and  gratification  through  inert  sense  im- 
pressions are  thus  weeded  out,  and  society  is  transformed 
into  a  higher  civilization  by  the  vigour  and  altruistic 
activity  of  the  survivors. 

There  are  thus  three  groups  of  laws  from  which  the 
premises  of  natural  religion  are  derived.  The  laws  of  life 
show  how  it  may  be  elevated  to  its  highest  forms.  The 
laws  of  reason  show  how  possibilities  and  probabilities  may 
become  realities.  The  economic  laws  show  what  qualities 
must  be  impressed  on  men  in  the  struggle  for  that  higher 
civilization  which  the  conditions  of  the  environment  per- 
mit. To  gain  this  higher  social  state  men  must  become 
active,  hopeful,  altruistic,  and  full  of  confidence  in  the 
unseen  about  them  and  in  the  future  before  them.  A 
purely  sensory  development  with  an  undue  emphasis  of 
the  present,  the  seen,  and  the  immediately  felt,  will  not 
meet  the  conditions  of  progress.  We  thus  have  the  laws 
of  life  showing  that  its  highest  possibilities  may  be  reached 
through  the  interaction  of  life  on  life,  and  the  laws  of  rea- 
son showing  that  if  no  limitations  of  time  and  space  are 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  407 

set,  all  possibilities  are  realities.  We  have,  thirdly,  eco- 
nomic conditions  that  create  a  hopeful,  active  man,  who 
believes  in  these  possibilities  and  strives  to  realize  them. 
A  race  with  this  temper  may  fail  to  prove  that  a  perma- 
nent life  is  possible,  but  they  cannot  help  believing  that 
it  is.  The  less  hopeful,  the  less  confident,  and  the  less 
active  will  always  be  among  the  number  that  do  not  sur- 
vive. Hope,  faith,  and  activity  cannot  be  the  condition 
of  success  in  all  environmental  determinants  of  survival 
without  creating  that  mental  attitude  which  leads  men 
to  approach  the  superenvironmental  problems  based  on 
the  possibilities  of  the  universe.  Even  if  a  permanent 
life  is  impossible,  every  new  form  of  life  as  it  appears 
must  believe  in  the  possibility  of  a  permanent  life,  and 
struggle  for  it.  The  same  concrete  conditions  will  create 
the  dominant  qualities  of  life,  and  they  will  determine  its 
attitude  toward  all  that  lies  beyond  the  seen  and  felt. 
The  forms  of  all  life  can  thus  be  predicted.  We  may 
even  know  what  life  on  distant  planets  is  attempting 
to  do,  though  we  have  no  sensory  evidence  that  these 
efforts  are  a  success. 

If  we  examine  the  processes  of  nature  to  see  what 
evidence  they  afford  of  a  divine  plan  for  the  elevation  of 
life  and  the  attainment  of  moral  ends,  we  must  not  con- 
fine ourselves  to  some  one  department.  Not  the  laws  of  life, 
nor  of  reason,  nor  of  economics,  reveal  the  complete  plan 
on  which  God  works.  Any  one  of  these  by  itself  would 
fail  to  substantiate  an  adequate  scheme  of  natural  religion; 
but  taken  in  conjunction,  they  show  a  plan  that  each  alone 
is  unable  to  reveal.  We  have  material  evidences  of  the 
upward  tendencies  in  life,  but  not  of  the  possibility  of  a 
permanent  equilibrium.  Reason  can  convince  us  that 
probabilities  are  realities,  and  that  in  the  universe  at  large 
possibilities  are  also  realities ;  but  it  throws  no  light  on 
the  possibilities  themselves.  Economic  conditions,  how- 
ever, cut  off  the  hopeless  and  the  faithless  ;  and  thus  the 


408      DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  THOUGHT 

only  men  that  survive  have  mental  qualities  that  compel 
them  to  believe  in  the  possibilities  that  life  and  reason 
point  out.  The  restricted  knowledge  of  life  and  the 
shortcomings  of  reason  are  remedied  by  making  hope, 
faith,  and  activity  necessary  elements  in  men's  characters. 
If  the  goal  of  human  progress  is  never  reached,  it  will 
not  be  because  of  any  defect  in  the  plan  upon  which  God 
works  in  nature.  The  conditions  of  life  and  the  charac- 
ters of  men  have  in  them  all  the  elements  demanded  for 
the  full  attainment  of  every  ideal. 

If  this  view  of  the  scope  of  natural  religion  be  accepted, 
it  covers  the  same  ground  and  emphasizes  the  same  prin- 
ciples that  revealed  religion  does.  Natural  and  revealed 
religion  do  not  supplement  each  other,  but  merely  ap- 
proach the  same  truths  from  different  standpoints  and 
uphold  them  with  different  evidence.  The  narrower  field 
of  the  old  natural  religion  was  due  to  the  emphasis  of 
God  as  Cause.  But  God  as  Life  enters  into  many  more 
relations  with  men,  and  His  presence  is  revealed  in 
many  more  ways.  The  whole  of  nature  and  the  whole 
of  man,  active  as  well  as  passive,  can  be  called  upon 
for  evidence  of  God  as  Life,  and  this  evidence  will  con- 
tain all  the  elements  that  are  contained  in  revealed 
religion  and  will  emphasize  the  same  facts,  hopes,  and 
possibilities.  Natural  religion  is  not  merely  a  religion  of 
knowledge,  nor  revealed  religion  merely  a  religion  of  faith. 
Nor  does  the  one  tell  merely  of  a  God  in  nature  and  the 
other  of  a  God  incarnate.  The  principle  of  incarnation 
is  an  essential  tendency  in  all  life,  and  is  revealed  wherever 
the  higher  types  come  in  contact  with  the  lower.  It  is 
as  natural  a  manifestation  of  God  as  justice,  reason,  or 
mercy.  The  incarnate  God  exhibits  in  the  concrete  what 
the  God  of  nature  reveals  in  slowly  working  processes. 
The  will  of  the  one  is  the  will  of  the  other.  Revealed 
religion  is  thus  not  an  extension  of  natural  religion  to 
new   fields,  nor   merely  miraculous  exhibition  of   God's 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS  409 

power.  It  is  a  verification  of  the  premises  that  natural 
religion  has  established.  Had  no  plan  of  salvation  been 
revealed  and  no  incarnation  taken  place,  our  conception 
of  God  would  have  fallen  short  of  the  requirements 
imposed  on  higher  life.  He  would  have  been  less  noble 
than  we  have  a  right  to  expect.  But  as  it  is,  revealed 
religion  gives  a  double  verification.  It  shows  that  life  is 
as  high  in  form  and  quality  as  nature  permits,  and  that 
life  has  attained  the  permanent  equilibrium  for  which  all 
its  forms  are  striving.  More  than  this  is  not  necessary ; 
anything  less  would  be  complete  failure. 


INDEX 


Agnosticism,  lack  of  influence  of, 
370 ;  a  reversion  from  religious 
instincts  and  ideals,  376. 

Altrospection,  as  a  scientific  method, 
166. 

Amusements,  of  Cavalier  England, 
134 ;  country,  201. 

Art,  development  in  England,  352  ; 
modern,  lack  of  influence  of,  385 ; 
breeding  against,  386. 

Association  of  ideas,  Locke's  doc- 
trine of,  171 ;  Hume's  starting- 
point,  222. 

Bentham,  and  the  economic  utili- 
tarians, 293  ;  negative  idea  of 
pleasure,  296 ;  not  a  student  of 
facts,  310 ;  relation  to  Kicardo, 
311 ;  did  not  originate  doctrine 
of  utility,  312. 

Bible,  influence  of,  in  Beformation 
period,  117. 

Calvinism,  developed  in  the  moun- 
tains and  towns,  108 ;  teaches 
class  superiority,  110  ;  outgrowth 
of  economic  ideas  of  the  period, 
112 ;  covenant  idea  of,  120;  causes 
of  its  failure,  251. 

Calvinists,  the,  Chap.  Ill  j  socially 
classified,  36  ;  dominant  element 
in  English  life,  286 ;  restraints  of, 
315. 

Catholicism,  establishes  supremacy 
of  Christianity,  69 ;  and  love  of 
order  and  authority,  191. 

Cavaliers,  observers,  119;  amuse- 
ments of,  134. 

Character,  nature  of  individual,  12  ; 
national,  13 ;  due  to  motor  reac- 


tions, 15  ;  depends  on  peculiarity 
of  the  locality,  18 ;  and  social 
surplus,  60  ;  of  early  German,  65. 
identified  with  a  man's  goods,  114 ; 
as  displayed  in  a  mining  camp, 
128  ;  formation  of  English,  139. 

Chastity,  a  product  of  economic 
welfare,  132. 

Cheapness,  characterizes  present 
economy,  379. 

Christianity,  in  relation  to  vice  and 
crime,  93 ;  Locke's  method  in 
discussing  reasonableness  of,  174  ; 
of  the  New  Testament,  181 ;  But- 
ler's Evidences  of,  223. 

Church,  the  supremacy  of,  in  north- 
ern Europe,  70 ;  relation  to  mo- 
nastic colonies,  72 ;  heterogeneous 
character  of  early,  73  ;  attitude  to- 
ward slaves,  76  ;  Beformation  and 
the  Benaissance,  87  ;  in  fifteenth 
century  a  failure,  89  ;  from  Cath- 
olic standpoint  a  success,  89 ;  an 
economic  organization,  90 ;  fur- 
nished conditions  of  progress,  108 ; 
a  civil  organization,  133  ;  festivals 
in,  133  ;  love  of  order  and  peace 
due  to,  187 ;  upholds  ideals  of 
social  progress,  287  ;  believes  in 
power  of  influence,  290 ;  and  the 
Oxford  movement,  356 ;  unity  of, 
depends  on  motor  side  of  Chris- 
tianity, 367. 

Church  fathers,  no  economic  pro- 
gramme, 74 ;  intense  cosmopoli- 
tans, 77. 

Cities,  deterioration  in  life  in,  200. 

Civilization,  three  elements  in  a, 
267 ;  non-moral  attitude  domi- 
nates English,  271. 


411 


412 


INDEX 


Clan  life,  in  relation  to  Calvinism, 
109 ;  typified  in  Calvinism,  314. 

Clark,  Philosophy  of  Wealth  in  re- 
lation to  A.  Smith,  304. 

Class  distinctions  in  England,  130. 

Classicism  in  England,  350. 

dingers,  a  social  class,  24 ;  disap- 
pearing as  a  class,  387. 

Comte,  A.,  influence  on  J.  S.  Mill, 
325 ;  method  in  social  sciences, 
331. 

Consciousness  of  kind,  61. 

Conversion,  forms  race  ideals,  18 ; 
depends  on  sensory  ideas,  19 ; 
and  reversions,  51. 

Country  life,  changes  in  English, 
194  ;  influences  civilization  before 
city  life,  203. 

Crime,  contrasted  with  vice,  122. 

Darwin,  represents  transition  from 
philosophy  to  economics,  343 ; 
economic  theories  of,  345. 

Degeneration,  46. 

Diminishing  returns,  law  of,  creates 
a  new  economic  philosophy,  309. 

Drinking  habits,  killing  men  off,  389. 

Eastern  trade,  produces  change  in 
northern  Europe,  78. 

Economics,  contrasted  with  aesthet- 
ics and  morals,  40  ;  and  morality 
in  A.  Smith's  theory,  265. 

Economists,  Chap.  V ;  Darwin 
among  the,  344. 

England,  supremacy  in  bidding  for 
wheat,  284. 

English  civilization,  sudden  advent 
of,  126 ;  compared  with  German, 
129. 

English  thought,  three  epochs,  55  ; 
antecedents  of,  57  ;  change  in,  due 
to  united  work  of  A.  Smith  and 
Wesley,  264. 

Enthusiasm,  evils  of,  163. 

Environment,  adjustment  of  organ- 
isms to,  1 ;  local  and  general,  5  ; 
determines  race  economy,  7 ; 
meaning  of,  10  ;  not  entirely  sub- 


ject to  physical  law,  50 ;  deter- 
mined by  line  drawn  between  the 
self  and  the  non-self,  113 ;  doc- 
trines of,  in  Hume  and  Montes- 
quieu, 231. 

Family,  size  of  early  family  groups, 
76  ;  development  of  family  life,  81. 

Family  life,  importance  of,  in  English 
development,  192. 

Fifteenth  century,  economic  changes 
in,  78. 

Food  supply,  effect  of,  on  social  life, 
58. 

France,  economic  domination  of,  in 
seventeenth  century,  275  ;  decline 
of,  276 ;  entrance  of  English  eco- 
nomic ideas  into,  281. 

French  Revolution,  277  ;  not  due  to 
a  lack  of  food,  281 ;  motives  of,  283. 

Frugalism,  35. 

Germans,   interpretation  of  Locke, 

157. 
Germany,  slow  development  of,  129. 
Giddings,  theory  of  consciousness  of 

kind,  61. 
Gunpowder,  an  economic  invention, 


Hebrew  development  contrasted 
with  English,  141. 

History,  economic  theory  of,  v. 

Hobbes,  Thomas,  his  central 
thought,  144 ;  idea  of  a  natural 
state  of  war,  146 ;  in  relation  to 
Puritans,  148  ;  careless  work,  154. 

Home,  development  of  modern,  83 ; 
concept  created  by  the  Puritans, 
124  ;  the  opposition  of  communal 
pleasures  to,  364. 

Human  nature,  meaning  of  the  term 
as  used  by  Hume,  214. 

Hume,  successor  of  Mandeville,  212 ; 
date  of  treatise  on  Human  Nature, 
214  ;  clue  to  his  development,  219  ; 
stages  in  his  philosophy,  225  ;  de- 
nounces Physiocratic  doctrines, 
229. 


INDEX 


413 


Ideals,  attract  two  classes  of  men, 

374 ;  rest,  375. 
Imitation,  in  relation  to  race  ideals, 

18. 
Indifference,  doctrine  of,  in  relation 

to  Puritanism,  163. 
Instincts,  primitive  economic,  64. 
Irish,  the,  an  example  of  unthrift, 

127. 

Laborer,  improvement  in  condition 
of  English,  198. 

Leviathan,  ideas  of  Hoboes,  146 ; 
order  of  writing,  149. 

Liquor,  as  an  element  in  a  food  diet, 
380 ;  unfavourable  at  present, 
381. 

Locke,  early  ideas,  148;  in  relation 
to  Hobbes,  148  ;  his  own  develop- 
ment, 158  ;  an  economist,  159 ; 
educated  as  a  Puritan,  160;  on  the 
evils  of  enthusiasm,  164. 

Malthus,  doctrine  of  population,  299; 
continuation  of  work  of  Adam 
Smith,  303  ;  influence  on  Darwin, 
347. 

Mandeville,  Fable  of  the  Bees,  201 ; 
man  a  compound  of  passions,  205  ; 
criterion  of  national  prosperity, 
206 ;  controversy  over  nature  of 
man  and  of  wealth,  297. 

Marriage,  in  primitive  times,  132. 

Method,  in  science,  142  ;  introspec- 
tive and  altrospective,  166 ;  in 
sociology  and  the  social  science, 
332. 

Methodism,  effect  of,  on  other  reli- 
gious bodies,  243  ;  in  relation  to 
Puritanism,  246 ;  checks  growing 
supremacy  of  women,  255  ;  util- 
izes activity  for  religious  ends, 
258  ;  socializes  religion,  259. 

Methodists,  socially  classified,  36 ; 
influenced  by  woman's  standards, 
319 ;  regard  Christ  as  a  social 
ideal,  360. 

Mill,  James,  relation  to  Ricardo, 
311 ;  made  ideas  of  Bentham  and 


Ricardo  practical,  313  ;  definition 
of  political  economy,  323. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  develops  utilita- 
rianism, 318 ;  influence  of  Ster- 
ling and  Saint-Simon  on,  321 ;  his 
Logic,  324 ;  influence  of  Comte, 
325 ;  inductive  method,  328 ; 
Comte's  method,  331  ;  abandons 
a  science  of  character,  335 ;  con- 
tribution to  political  economy, 
337  ;  influence  of  his  wife,  341. 

Milton,  view  of  the  universe,  182. 

Moralists,  the,  Chap.  VI. 

Morality,  standards  of,  100. 

Morality  and  natural  religion,  265  ; 
sources  of,  in  sympathy,  268. 

Motor  reactions,  2  ;  form  character, 
15. 

Mugwumps,  represent  reduced  vital- 
ity, 186. 

National  thought,  influence  of  sci- 
ence on,  368. 

Natural  theology  of  the  past  and  fu- 
ture, 400. 

Newton,  furnishes  basis  for  modern 
optimism,  183. 

Over-nutrition,  a  cause  of  social 
evils,  99;  cause  of  elimination, 
382  ;  effects  of,  on  women,  383. 

Oxford  movement,  356. 

Pain  economy,  9 ;  outcome  of  James 

Mill's  thinking,  315. 
Passions,  man  a  compound  of,  205 ; 

Hume's  doctrine  of,  215. 
Personality,  growth  of,  116. 
Physiocratic  doctrines,  in  relation 

to  A.  Smith,  229. 
Plagues,  the  great,  coincident  with 

rise  of  Puritanism,  138. 
Pleasure    economy,    8 ;    contrasted 

with  pain  economy,  9. 
Pleasures,   negative   idea    of,   296 ; 

James  Mill's  lack  of  belief  in,  316 ; 

intense,  cannot  be  broken  up  into 

parts  of  equal  value,  355. 
Political  economy,  Mill's  contribu- 
tion to,  337. 


414 


INDEX 


Political  thought,  no  development  in, 
since  Locke,  188. 

Primitive  men,  traits  of,  130. 

Printing,  opens  up  new  way  of  ac- 
quiring ideas,  118. 

Productive  labour,  doctrine  of,  239 ; 
Sir  James  Steuart  on,  240. 

Progress,  national,  new  way  of  esti- 
mating, 305  ;  English,  consists  in 
opposition  between  communal  and 
family  life,  192. 

Prosperity,  Mandeville's  criterion  of 
national,  206. 

Protestantism,  opposition  to  indul- 
gences, 95. 

Puritans,  readers,  and  Cavaliers  ob- 
servers, 119  ;  creed,  121  ;  attitude 
toward  vice,  123  ;  and  the  concept 
of  home,  124  ;  view  of  character, 
125  ;  aided  by  the  plagues,  138  ; 
are  stalwarts,  139 ;  die  of 
consumption,  140 ;  influence  on 
Hobbes,  150 ;  represented  by 
Locke,  160 ;  split  into  two  parties 
by  Locke,  185. 

Race  economy,  determined  by  envi- 
ronment, 7. 

Race  ideals,  formation  of,  15 ;  per- 
sistence of,  17  ;  due  more  to  con- 
version than  to  imitation,  18 ; 
of  a  future  life,  75. 

Reformation,  in  relation  to  Renais- 
sance, 86 ;  social  side  of,  97 ;  a 
premature  movement,  102;  in  Eng- 
land due  to  three  sets  of  ideas, 
117  ;  causes  change  in  view  of  the 
New  Testament,  177. 

Reform  Bill,  the  first,  an  attack  on 
aristocracy,  317. 

Religion,  relation  to  economics  and 
aesthetics,  40,  41 ;  to  morals,  42 ; 
of  early  Germans,  66  ;  socialized 
by  Methodists,  259 ;  harmony  of 
utilitarian  reasoning  with,  340 ; 
has  become  utilitarian,  365 ;  di- 
vorced from  asceticism,  366  ;  laws 
of  natural,  406. 

Ricardo,  transforms  political  econ- 


omy, 303 ;  not  a  cold  logician, 
304 ;  central  fact  in  his  system, 
306 ;  relation  to  James  Mill  and 
Bentham,  311. 

Science,  limited  power  of,  in  national 
thought,  371. 

Sensory  knowledge,  development 
of,  2. 

Sensualists,  a  social  class,  26 ;  doc- 
trine of,  in  Mandeville,  224;  de- 
crease in  relative  numbers  of, 
387. 

Smith,  Adam,  work  of,  follows 
Hume,  226  ;  wherein  his  original- 
ity consists,  227 ;  not  influenced 
greatly  by  Physiocrats,  228 ; 
Wealth  of  Nations  not  written  in 
France,  232  ;  theory  of  distribu- 
tion, 237 ;  his  reasoning  about 
value  and  the  price  of  wheat,  279. 

Social  classes,  dingers,  24 ;  sensual- 
ists, 26 ;  stalwarts,  27 ;  mug- 
wumps, 30,  31  ;  curves  of  thought 
connected  with  each  class,  33. 

Social  development,  determined  by 
fathers  and  mothers,  385. 

Social  progress,  46. 

Socialism,  its  force  explained,  373. 

Society,  classifications  of,  defective, 
22 ;  complete  classification  not 
yet  possible,  24  ;  social  restraints, 
91 ;  Hobbes'  theory  of,  144. 

Sociology,  method  of,  332. 

Sovereignty,  indivisibility  of,  150. 

Stalwarts,  a  social  class,  27  ;  corre- 
spond to  early  ascetics,  29;  be- 
coming the  dominant  class,  391 ; 
exalt  position  of  woman,  392. 

Steuart,  Sir  James,  doctrine  of  pro- 
ductive labour,  240 ;  Smith's  re- 
plies to,  241. 

Subjugation,  social,  causes  of,  24. 

Sugar,  importance  of,  in  present 
diets,  380. 

Superstition,  present  growth  of,  due 
to  dyspepsia,  372. 

Survival,  determined  by  elimination 
of  types  of  men,  381. 


INDEX 


415 


Tea-drinking,  develops  home  life, 
193. 

Thought  curves,  in  social  classes, 
33 ;  in  economic,  aesthetic,  reli- 
gious, and  moral  ideas,  44. 

Under-nutrition,  causes  social  evils, 
99  ;  and  survival,  382. 

Unitarianism,  development  of  reli- 
gious thought  from  Locke  to, 
175. 

Utilitarians,  influence  of  economic, 
292 ;  creed  neglected  too  many 
elements  of  human  nature,  318. 

Utility,  doctrine  of,  not  original  with 
Bentham,  312. 

Utopias,  present  need  of,  369. 

Utopists,  the,  in  England,  286  ;  em- 
phasis placed  on  progress,  289 ; 
French,  292 ;  revolt  from  eco- 
nomic programme,  293;  conflict 
with  economists,  296. 

Value,  A.  Smith's  theory  of,  238. 
Vice,  distinguished  from  crime,  122. 


War,  effect  of,  in  Middle  Ages  exag- 
gerated, 85. 

Wealth  of  Nations,  Smith's  work  not 
influenced  by  French  development, 
232  ;  construction  of  Smith's  work, 
233. 

Wesley,  rise  of  his  doctrines,  243  ;  a 
superstitious  man,  248  ;  standards 
of  religion,  256  ;  search  for  signs 
of  God's  wrath,  277. 

Wheat,  struggle  for,  in  France,  278. 

Whitefield,  his  work  compared  with 
that  of  Wesley,  248  ;  a  visualizer, 
250. 

Woman,  position  of,  in  Germany  in 
fifteenth  century,  82 ;  economic 
use  of  income,  197 ;  domination 
of,  a  necessity,  253  ;  influence  on 
Whitefield,  255 ;  much  influence 
with  Calvinists,  none  with  Uto- 
pists, 286 ;  influence  of  woman's 
standards  on  J.  S.  Mill,  342 ;  in- 
crease in  influence  of,  361 ;  becom- 
ing less  economic,  392. 

Wool,  necessary  use  of,  in  English 
climate,  196, 


A   HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

WITH  ESPECIAL  REFERENCE  TO 

THE  FORMATION  AND  DEVELOPMENT  OF 
ITS  PROBLEMS  AND  CONCEPTIONS. 

BY 

DR.   W.   WINDELBAND, 

Professor  of  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Strassburg. 

AUTHORIZED  TRANSLATION   BY 

JAMES   H.  TUFTS,  Ph.D., 

Associate  Professor  of  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Chicago. 

8vo.       Cloth.       $4.00,  net. 


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